Without You, There's Nothing
by Allora Gale
Summary: It wasn't just that I couldn't be happy without the beautiful, blond stranger from my visions. It was simply that there was nothing without him. If I couldn't see him, like on those days when he disappeared from my sight, then I couldn't see myself either
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Obviously I don't own any of the characters presented in this story.

Thank you for reading.

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I opened my eyes and sighed. Of course he wasn't here, I thought, burying my face in my hands. Another vision of things far away. Things that might happen? I hoped so. The image of the beautiful, ravaged-looking blond stranger of my visions always brought me comfort. I didn't know why. But I did know that when I couldn't see him in that diner, I couldn't see anything else for myself. It was as if my very existence depended on me finding the man. There was no future for me without the man in my visions. Without him there was nothing, not the long journey to the North I sometimes foresaw, or the group of beautiful amber eyed strangers that would one day be my family. No Carlisle Cullen. Esme. Edward. Rosalie. Emmet. Nothing.

It was in those times, when I was blind, looking at the eternity of nothingness my future held for me that it was hardest to accept what I had become; the monster I had awoken as, with no knowledge of a previous life, no memories but for vague flashes that were gone before I could make sense of them. And the _thirst_. When there was nothing to look forward to, when I couldn't see a future for myself with my beautiful blond stranger and Carlisle Cullen's family of amber eyed brothers and sisters, then it was hardest to do what was right.

I knew, I felt it instinctively, that the incessant burn in my throat could only be fully quenched by human blood. But I also knew, I had seen, that Carlisle's family sustained itself only on the blood of animals. Vegetarians; their little joke. But I couldn't go to them. Not yet. Not without the blond stranger of my visions. I knew _that _as instinctively as I knew I needed blood to survive. As instinctively as I knew that I had no future without the stranger. It was beyond that there was no happiness there for me without the stranger at my side, my gallant protector. It was that there was simply _nothing_ without him.

I shook my head at my musings. Today he was in my visions. Today it would not be so hard to do what was right; to stalk an animal instead of a human. And then, I thought, while glancing up at the dark cloudy sky, then I would go find a diner to sit in. One that looked like the one I had seen my beautiful stranger in. I would sit there, like the human I wasn't, the human I couldn't remember if I had been, and I would wait for him as patiently as I could manage. Wait, like I had for so many days, for so many years. So many diners . . .

I fed, not enjoying the hunt despite seeing the stranger today. Deer wasn't especially appetizing in any case. In the beginning, when I had first seen him and begun searching for him, I had thought that if I saw him in my head, that he might show up that day in reality. But the years of disappointment had dampened my confidence and resolve. These days, it felt like I was only going to the diners by force of habit.

Except . . . except that if I thought of _not_ going to a diner, if I thought of not wasting day after day after day sitting in diner after diner hoping that _that_ day might just be the day I got lucky, then I had to ask myself what else I was going to do. What else was there? I could sit, miserable, in the wilderness, contemplating my life, why I was here, for what purpose I saw the things I did. But there was no life, no reason, no purpose without my beautiful stranger. It would only be when he was there, when he walked into whatever diner I happened to be in, that I would be at peace and be able to hope for the future.

I turned into the first diner I found. There was nothing particularly special about it. It was like every other diner I had sat in. I couldn't even look at the decor anymore. It all blurred together. Red vinyl seats, or were they blue? Yellow? Jukebox in the corner playing something my sensitive ears couldn't quite admit was music. Lady in an appalling, faded, uniform behind the counter pouring coffee for her patrons.

I ordered a coffee, paid for it with money stolen from the register while her back had been turned, and sat down at the counter, playing with the drink sullenly. I entertained myself for a while by exploring the range of colors my coffee could become as I slowly added creamer after creamer into the mix. I stopped when it looked more like milk than coffee and gazed hard at the faded, fractured Formica counter top in front of me. Of course, the fractures were too minute for the diner's owners to see. Hairline breaches in the laminate danced before my eyes. I found myself searching for patterns in the cracks, memorizing the designs the little fissures created.

I almost laughed at myself. Here I was, immortal - or at least I assumed I was immortal as I hadn't aged a day in almost forty years - sitting, wasting her time, hours upon hours as the day slowly slid by, examining cracks as though they held all the secrets of the universe. Though, I supposed, only an immortal would be able to waste the time, would want to waste the time even. It's not like I was running out of time, I think. Because if I was running out of time, if I wasn't as immortal as I thought I was, I was going to be incredibly peeved at this stranger I was waiting for.

I took a deep breath and sighed, letting the aromas of the diner envelope me. Coffee. Grease. The shampoo of the lady behind the counter. The vinyl of the furniture. Cigar smoke from the man seated in the booth across the isle. Rain. The storm must have finally broke through. And something . . . indescribably sweet. It was very homey, earthy even.

I turned in my seat, breath catching in my throat. I almost thought, for the barest of seconds, that I was having another vision. It was exactly as I had seen, his face was exactly how I remembered it even though I had never actually seen him before in my life. And I could smell him. It was him. That intoxicating scent that had so quickly overtaken everything else in my mind was _him_.

He was a full head and shoulders, at least, taller than me and his honey blond hair was stuck down to his head, thoroughly soaked from the storm. Black eyes stared at me warily out of his haggard looking face. He was a mess. I could see a criss-crossed pattern, like the cracks in the Formica, across the base of his throat. He caught me looking at them and his eyes narrowed. He was tensed, as though ready to pounce or flee.

I couldn't help the waves of relief, of peace, of hope, that crashed over me. To see his face, finally, was like gazing upon the sun for the first time. Like fresh, cool water after being lost in the desert. If I could have cried, I might have. But I couldn't and I could hardly help the blinding smile that fell on my lips. I was grinning like an idiot. Surely, he thought I was a fool. What could I say to him?

"You've kept me waiting a long time." I said softly, again wishing I could cry. Tears of joy, like I had seen in the movies and on human faces.

He bowed his head cautiously. "I'm sorry, ma'am." He said, and I could make out the traces of a southern accent.

I sighed, dreamily. I wanted to run into his arms, to kiss him. I knew – I had always known, from the first time I'd seen him – that he was the one for me. The only one. The one forever. But he was still watching my movements like I might attack. The thought was almost laughable. He was so much bigger than me. I made out his strong arms under the sleeves of his thin jacket and wanted to be held by them. But I resisted the temptation of throwing myself at him, instead holding out my hand, desperately hoping he would take it.

There was a moment, the tiniest fraction of a second, that he hesitated before putting his hand in mine. It was strong and cool and . . . scarred. I could feel the slight variations of his skin under my fingers and wondered what kind of hell he had been through to get to me. I promised myself that whatever it was, I would never let it hurt him again. I would protect my protector.

Then I pulled him out into the rain again, he followed without resistance and I laughed hysterically for a moment because I could _see_ everything so much more clearly now. The lines of each of the Cullen's faces were so much sharper, more defined now that he was here, my handsome stranger. I could see the future, my future, with so much more clarity.

He didn't resist, his hand a cool comfort in mine, as we raced out of the city, into the wild. I wanted to see the real him, I wanted him to see the real me, not the human charade. He _had_ to know me, the real me. So he could love me the way I already loved him, nameless as he was.

"I mean you no offense, but who are you?" He asked when I finally slowed down, miles outside the city limits. Entirely secluded in the forest, rain dripping down on us as it slowly filtered through the canopy overhead. It had never occurred to me to fear him, to fear being alone with him. It would never occur to me.

"Mary Alice Brandon." I said cheerfully.

He grimaced.

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly. He didn't like me already! My heart began breaking, despite the fact that it was already dead in my chest.

"Nothing, ma'am. I like the Alice part." He said softly.

"I can be Alice. For you, I can be anything."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically and I would have blushed if it were possible. My big mouth was going to drive him off, I just knew it. But instead of shutting up, I blundered onward.

"But _who_ are you? If you don't mind me asking, sir." I added politely.

"I thought you knew me already." He said, wary again.

"I know your face." I said softly. I gently ran my hand against his cheek. He flinched away from my touch. I tried to hide my hurt. "I've seen it for years. In visions. For as long as I remember, I have known your face. But there is no name that I can tag to it."

"Jasper Whitlock." He said, his voice coarse.

"Jasper." I whispered, relishing the sound of it in my mouth. It fit him perfectly. Years ago, when I hadn't been quite so desolate, I used to imagine what his name might have been. I had never thought of Jasper. It was too perfect for him. Now that I knew it, I couldn't imagine him by any other name.

We stared at each other for a long time. I memorized every minute detail of his face again. Familiarizing myself with each element that had been left blurry in my visions. And he was glorious; everything I could have, or would have desired if I had been given a choice. Even if I hadn't know before, if I'd had to search for him blind, I would have known the moment I saw him that he was the one for me.

"Why did you see me? What was the purpose of your visions? What are you supposed to do?" He asked slowly, but very firmly.

I hesitated. I knew the answers, of course, but something made me reluctant to say. I could sympathize with him. He didn't know the way I did that he was the other half of my soul, the very reason for my existence. He didn't know the extent - the infinite span - of my feelings for him. And suddenly this wasn't the way I wanted to reveal it to him. My imagination drifted to a candlelit evening with soft music playing in the background.

I turned away, unwilling to meet his gaze, as my imagination played havoc with my heart. I wanted that evening, so badly, now that I had seen it. It would be in early summer, and the scent of wild flowers would be in the air. He would kiss me gently when I told him and profess his own love for me. The image was hazy in front of my eyes, like smoke.

His hand clamped painfully around my elbow as he jerked me around to face him again. I had never felt pain in this life and I winced at his touch. "Why?" He demanded. His eyes were black with thirst and fury, controlled fury, but fury nonetheless. It seemed to emanate from him, rolling off him in waves.

"To love you." I said weakly, trying not to show the pain. I wasn't sure what hurt more at that moment, the way his large, strong hand was crushing my elbow, or the way my candlelight evening disappeared before my eyes.

He dropped my arm, eyes wide with shock as he took a wide step away from me. I tried not to focus on the gap between us, tried not to see the way he shirked away from my professions. Instead, I stared at my feet, determined to ignore him. I hoped that the earth would suddenly decide to open a great chasm beneath my feet and swallow me up. I was in the middle of thinking about just how humiliating, mortifying, his rejection was when I felt his fingers on my elbow again.

"I'm sorry." He said softly as he gently examined my arm. "For hurting you. And for hurting your feelings."

"I'm fine." I lied, still examining my shoes. They were very nice shoes. Real leather black and white saddle shoes. They would have cost a pretty penny if I'd bothered to pay for them. But my attempts to forget his rejection were futile, it felt like he'd shoved his hand into my chest and had crushed the withered husk that was all that remained of my heart. No, I was okay. I didn't need that part anyway.

"Alice," He hesitated. "Why on earth would you choose to love someone as monstrous as myself?"

"I don't see a monster." I pouted.

He lifted my face, gently, so I was looking right into his eyes and sighed. "Look at me, please. Just for a moment, really look at me and see me. I'm not any sort of prince or gentleman."

I looked straight into his eyes. "I _do_ see you, Jasper. Better than you see yourself, I think. But we don't have to talk about this now. I didn't want to talk about this now, like this. You don't know me at all and definitely not enough to want me too, yet."

He sighed exasperatedly. "Then what now?"

"We find the Cullen's." I said confidently. There wasn't a trace of hesitation in my assertion. Jasper was only the very beginning of my new life, the catalyst that would change everything I knew.

"Who are the Cullen's?" He asked suspiciously, sitting on a wind felled tree.

I sank to my knees in front of him, smiling brilliantly. "I've _seen_ them. They live further North somewhere. Such wonderful people. But I could only see them when I could see you. So obviously, I can't go there without you." I explained. I put my hand on his knee and looked at him pleadingly. It wasn't quite begging, but close. I needed him with me if I was going to have the life I had seen. I needed him. Period.

"Who says they would welcome us? They could just as easily kill us." He said scornfully.

"Not the Cullen's." I assured him. "They're different from others like us. They're a real family, like humans have. They _love_ each other. I'm _sure_ they will be very welcoming. I've even been hunting like them, practicing."

"Practicing?" He asked dubiously.

I hesitated. This was one of the most important reasons why I wanted to find the Cullen's, but I also noted the thin, crimson ring in the irises of his eyes. Would I have to choose between them and him? "Um, well, yes. The Cullen's only hunt . . . animals."

A look of shock crossed Jasper's face as slid off the dead fall, dropping to his knees in front of me. He grabbed both my shoulders and stared very intently at my face for a moment. "Really, Alice? That can be done?"

I nodded mutely.

And then a brilliant, determinedly fierce grin spread across his face. "Then yes. I will go with you to these Cullen's."

I couldn't help the excited shriek that escaped my lips as I jumped to my feet and danced happily around him. I danced into his arms and kissed both of his cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I chanted. All the while relishing the closeness. I wanted to kiss him again, on the lips. I wanted him to see, to feel what I felt. I tilted my head back, standing on tip-toes, my eyes fluttered shut.

He took my hands from where they were clenched against his chest and gently but firmly pushed me away. "No, Alice. You're fighting a losing battle there."

I smiled at him smugly and tapped my temple. "Maybe _you're_ fighting a losing battle, Jasper Whitlock."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm ready to leave whenever you are. There's nothing holding me here."

I smiled sadly. "I know." I pointed myself North. "Northward, then, sir?"

"I think so, ma'am."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own any of these characters.

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews. I really appreciate them. So here's the second chapter. Hope you all enjoy it.

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We ran together, he kept pace easily with me, and we crossed counties like they were streets. I found myself watching him; mesmerized. His chest rose and fell evenly as wind rustled through his honey colored hair. I liked the way he moved. There was a force about his grace that I wasn't able to replicate. He looked strong and his strength only made him more beautiful in my eyes. The same way his scars told me he had courage. They didn't detract from him, but rather accentuated. I wouldn't have changed a thing about him, except the creeping sadness in his eyes.

Hours later I began to slow again. While it wasn't impossible for us to run indefinitely, it did begin to get uncomfortable after a while. Jasper matched me, stopping in a small clearing that opened up in front of us. The grass was tall there, growing easily up to my chest and I could smell a city in the distance.

Laughing, I collapsed into the grass, disappearing from sight. I laid back, looking up a the puffy, white clouds in the sky. I tried to remember the way I had felt that morning, the utter discontentment I had had with my life. How was it that so much could have changed in so little time?

Jasper sat down next to me, careful to keep several feet between us. I felt, rather than saw, his gaze rake over me. I hoped he liked what he saw. I hope he saw something that would plant the seed of doubt in his stalwart defense of his heart.

"Jasper," I asked after a few moments, "Do you like me?"

"Don't start that." He said irritably.

I sighed, not looking at him. "No, I meant . . . you don't . . . not like me, do you?"

So long as he didn't dislike me, I would be okay. For the moment. Not forever.

He snorted. "Of course I don't not like you. I'm here, with you, aren't I? You create far to intoxicating of a climate for me to do anything but like you."

"Climate?" I asked. Though intoxicating sounded good.

He hesitated for a long moment and gave me a sidelong look before he answered. "I'm an empath and you're a very happy person. I like it."

Ah. I'd thought he'd picked up on my moods a bit too easily. But this wasn't a good thing. An unforeseen obstruction. It was going to be a lot more difficult for me to eventually make him love me if he was on his guard and constantly had an advanced warning about my mood.

He chuckled. I liked it, it was deep and reassuring. "That's it?" He asked. "I tell you I can turn you into a raging force of nature and all I get is consternation?"

"I'm already a force of nature." I teased.

He lay back onto the grass to stare up at the clouds with me. "I can't argue with that."

"Will you tell me about yourself, Jasper?" I asked after a moment of silence.

His eyes narrowed. "I don't have a happy story. And with your . . . fixation with me, I don't think you should know more about me, regardless."

"Is it so wrong that . . . traveling companions," I said the words disdainfully. "should know a bit about each other?"

He smirked, no doubt picking up on my distaste with our relationship. "Then tell me about yourself first, ma'am. If you're so eager to learn my story, you ought to be willing to share yours, shouldn't you?"

I frowned and sat up, my back to him. "I don't have a story. I don't remember being human. My first memories . . . I woke up like this. I didn't know who or what I was. On the inside of my dress there was a tag with my name on it. 'This garment belongs to: Mary Alice Brandon'. There was nothing else. Nothing I could remember of myself. I didn't even know what I looked like." I felt a wave of calm and comfort wash over me, enveloping me like strong, soothing arms. I sighed. I wished he was actually comforting me, not using his gift, I wished his arms really were around me and that I could snuggle into his chest, that he would tell me everything was okay now, because he was here. But he didn't. "Yours was the first face I saw. At first, I didn't understand what was happening. I was terrified that I had somehow teleported myself somewhere. It was bad enough that I already didn't know where or what I was, but at that moment I didn't know where I was going either.

"But then the vision faded and I was exactly where I had been before. I received other visions in the next few days, mostly of you, but some were of the Cullen's. Some were of you with me with the Cullen's. I knew I had to find you. I knew it was a diner that I would find you at. So I traveled, waiting in every diner I could find. Thousands of diners, Jasper. You have no idea how much I was starting to loath the sights and smells of the places. They were all the same, smelled the same, looked the same." I closed my eyes and smiled. "And then you showed up. You walked through the door, exactly how I had seen you walk through the door thousands of times."

I stared at my knees. My existence was so pathetic. I had done nothing, nothing of note, since that first day except sit in diners. It was worse than pathetic. It was . . . it was . . . it was pitiful.

"In 1861, I joined the Confederate Army." Jasper said softly behind me. I looked over my shoulder at him. He was still laying on his back, one arm propped under his head as he glared at the clouds above. "I advanced through the ranks very quickly. I became a Major. I was on my way from Houston to Galveston when I came across three women. They were very beautiful to me, then. One of them, the smallest, sent the other two away. Her name was Maria, she's the one who changed me."

"Is she the reason you don't like that my name is Mary?" I asked softly.

His eyes flicked to my face and he smiled softly. "It's foolish, but yes." He looked back up at the sky and his voice hardened. "At the time, I didn't realize that there was more that one war raging in the South. Maria was putting together an army of newborn vampires. A highly skilled, highly trained army of vampires. My _ability_ proved useful for keeping the others in check so she eventually put me in charge of them. She had no choice, really. I was very good at what she wanted us to do. I was killing her soldiers faster than she could make them.

"We retook Monterrey, Maria's home city, easily. Too easily. It made her greedy. We took other cities. We expanded our territories, mercilessly, until our allies turned on us. We were pushed back to Monterrey." His voice sounded haunted and I at once wished I hadn't asked. If it hurt him to talk about it, then I didn't want to know. "We managed to hold onto the city, barely. We kept an army in reserve but it had to be . . . replaced every year. Maria would seek out new candidates. It was my job to dispose of the old, those who had outgrown their usefulness."

I couldn't help the way my hand fluttered to my mouth to stifle my gasp. I couldn't imagine the horror of it; of a life like that. The constant fear he must have felt, that maybe he too had outlived his usefulness. And the _climate_ that must have surrounded him. The terror and hate and blood lust. And beyond all these things, I couldn't imagine the force that would have been necessary to destroy creatures such as us. Before meeting Jasper, I had never felt physical pain. I hadn't thought that we could be killed. I had never met anything in all my years that had been able to so much as scratch me.

"You see now, Alice, don't you? You see the monster I am?" He said softly, closing his eyes.

"But you left." I persisted. The horror I felt at what he had been forced to do could not dampen the love I felt for him.

"Yes, I left. Two newborns escaped. One of them had been my friend. He returned a few years later to tell me about the new life he had. The way life was away from the wars of the South." He confirmed. "I left with them, without even telling Maria I was going. She was going to turn on me anyway."

I frowned. "But weren't you traveling with your friends before you met me? Wont they miss you?"

"No. I haven't been with Peter and Charlotte for months. It didn't feel -" His eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright.

Less than a second later I knew why. A foreign scent was wafting across the breeze toward us. Jasper was on his feet in seconds. He yanked me to my feet and pushed me behind him, crouching low. A deep, resonant, growling issued from his chest.

It was ridiculous to expect to be attacked here, so far north of his homeland. I had never once had an altercation of any kind with anyone. Of course, I didn't have a lot of experience with others of our kind. I'd spent most of my time to myself. I had nowhere near as much experience as he did, and now that I knew his story I could understand why he reacted the way he did.

I gently put my hand on his shoulder. "We don't know that they mean us any harm."

The growling ceased and he stood a little straighter, but his every muscle was tensed and he wouldn't let me move from behind him. A smile tugged at my lips. My gallant protector. If he wasn't a gentleman then I was a poodle.

Then our stranger burst through the underbrush on the opposite side of the clearing and came to a sudden halt. He was upwind of us and would have had no warning of our scent. He was a tall, stocky man with chestnut hair in a comb over. His eyes were so red they were almost glowing. Another low snarl ripped from Jasper's throat.

"Jasper, he could be a friend." I said softly.

The stranger approached warily. I didn't blame him. Jasper looked terrifying.

"You're in my territory." The stranger said angrily.

"We're just passing through." I said quickly.

"This land has never been claimed." Jasper said sharply. I sighed.

"_I _claim it." The man professed. "I claimed it when I killed my maker."

"Then we'll be on our way." I breathed, hoping to make peace.

"He wont let us be on our way, Alice. He wants to kill us." Jasper said harshly. "Just like all newborns, he's driven by the illogical need to kill everything in sight."

The barest flicker of surprise crossed the newcomer's face before a slow, vicious, violent grin spread onto his face and he launched himself at Jasper. But Jasper was already gone, already moving, dancing out of the way with his forceful grace. My breath caught in my throat, but I didn't know the first thing about combat. I was useless to help him.

I watched, unable to move. Terrified that the man I loved would be damaged by this mindless youth. I noticed Jasper refused to let the man between us and wanted to cry. It he got hurt, if he _died_ because he was trying to protect me, I would never forgive myself. Not in a million years, supposing that the newborn didn't get me too.

As I watched, tense with fear and panic, hazy ghost images flitted across my vision. I could see every strike a fraction of a second before it happened. The way Jasper manages to to snap off a finger of the man's. Followed shortly thereafter by a large crack and a piece of his shoulder coming away in Jasper's mouth. The way the man pushes Jasper back, diving at him again. The way Jasper loses ground. The way the man's teeth crunch off Jasper's right hand while he's trying to regain the advantage.

No!

No no no no no no. I launched myself at the man before any more rational thoughts could flick through my mind. Not Jasper. I had promised that he would never be hurt again, that I would protect my protector. I let my instincts guide me as I catapulted myself over Jasper's head while he lashed out at the man again. I landed, lightly, on the back of the man, one arm clinging tightly to his shoulder as I plunged my teeth into the man's throat. This was the only thing I knew, the only instinctive way I knew to kill something. Go for the throat, just as I would have on an animal. My teeth cut through his granite skin like butter, drowning out the man's enraged cry.

I collapsed onto the ground with the body as the head rolled away a few feet, stunned with what I'd done. How was it possible that the newborn had died so easily? Could _I_ die that easily? I'd never thought of myself as fragile; breakable. But this thing, the corpse that I had landed on, was certainly dead. Or at least, it wasn't moving and I couldn't see how it could survive without it's head.

Then Jasper's hands were on me, pulling me to my feet, he hauled me into a crushing hug. "Are you mad?" He demanded harshly as he released me. "You could have been hurt or killed."

"But you would have been hurt." I whispered, still shocked with what I had done, before I made my fingers imitate scissors and held them around his right wrist.

He stared at me unfathomably for a moment before his lip twitched. "And I thought I was a monster." He said with a soft chuckle, a glimmer of respect or admiration in his eyes.

Then he turned and began ripping the body of the newborn apart. I winced and averted my gaze. I was fairly certain I wanted to be nauseous. But my body wouldn't let me. I didn't look up again until I smelled smoke. He was now burning the disjointed pieces of the body. It seemed a bit excessive.

"Is all this necessary?" I asked as I miserably watched the marble pieces blacken.

"Yes. Unless you want him to put himself back together and hunt us down." He said coldly as he threw the last of the pieces into the fire.

I swallowed nervously. Okay, so maybe we weren't quite as breakable as I had been imagining. Jasper put his arm around my shoulder and a wave of serenity flooded over me. "Thank you." He said softly.

I liked this new camaraderie between us. I liked the way his arm was warm against my neck and the way I could feel his muscles under his coat. I liked the way his body formed a protective shield in front of me, blocking the fire from my sight. And I especially liked the way his scent wrapped around me like a favorite blanket. I breathed in deeply and saw him shake his head, but this time with a soft, sad smile on his lips. He disentangled himself from me and took a step away.

"Let's get out of here." I whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: It's still not mine.

Thanks for the review so far, but I hope to get more for this chapter. This chapter is almost twice as long as the last two, but I didn't want to chop it up. I wrote it like this and so it stays like this. I hope you enjoy it.

Please review, if only to let me know that you actually read it. Thank you!

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We ran, this time, far past the limits of discomfort, for two days in an effort to put as much space between ourselves and the newborn's smoldering corpse. The sun was setting when we came up short at Hudson's Bay. I slumped down in the snow, exhausted, and made a snow angel before sitting up straight and looking out at a vast expanse of rugged, snowy coastline in front of us. Jasper sank into the snow next to me. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath of the fresh, frozen air that mingled with his scent.

"Do you want to cross it or go around?" He asked.

I was a little startled by his voice. He'd scarcely said two words to me since we left the burning corpse of the newborn. I'd missed the sound of his voice.

"Around, I think. I need to look at the Cullen's more closely. And you need to feed. Your eyes are black as coal." I said, laying my hand softly on his arm.

"I don't think I have enough control to do it your way." He said, plunging his hand into the snow bank and coming back with a hard packed snow ball. He pitched it, moodily, away. "I'll just end up in whatever town is nearest."

I sighed. I had fed on a moose we had come across that morning. It had been natural for me; instinctual. While running I had caught the scent of a moose up ahead. I had launched myself on it without hesitation, but Jasper hadn't been able to force himself on it's mate. It's scent had repulsed him. "If you . . . need to." I said reluctantly, then my head snapped up as a wet, salty scent crossed my senses.

"What is it?" He asked sharply, jumping to his feet.

I pointed out at the ice covered bay before us. A hundred feet away, a solitary polar bear was trudging by, nose to the ice. "Take the bear." I said as I slowly got to my feet beside him. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Unless you don't think you can." I challenged.

His eyes narrowed and he turned to face the bear, stalking away. I fought the smile creeping onto my face, but failed miserably. Grinning, I watched him slowly, carefully circle around the bear; toying with it. It caught his scent and roared, jumping up onto his hind legs to tower over Jasper. He danced into the bear's sight, left, then right, then he lunged. He fell on the bear with a savagery I'd never before witnessed, tearing into the beast's throat rather than merely puncturing it. He must have been nearly mad with thirst.

He hovered over the carcass, draining it of every drop of crimson life before he loped back towards me. "Happy?" He asked darkly.

I looked at him closely. His eyes were only a slightly lighter shade of ebony than they had been before. "No."

He frowned. "There wont be any polar bears left if you're waiting on me to be fully satiated." He said then grimaced. "It doesn't -"

"I know, Jasper. It's not the same." I said quickly. I didn't need him to remind me what the taste of human blood felt like. "But it's better than senselessly murdering people. Or at least, I think it is."

"I don't like being a murderer, Alice. It's not as though I enjoy it." He said sharply, glaring at me.

"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." I apologized softly. "Go get one more. Then I'll be happy. And I'll hopefully know better where we're going by the time you get back."

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. For a moment it looked like he wanted to argue, but he reluctantly trudged off through the snow. I watched his receding back until he disappeared into the trees, then settled myself down into the snow where he had sat. I breathed in the traces of his scent heavily before I closed my eyes and focused.

I'd never attempted to govern my visions before; each of them had been a gift from my subconsciousness and, in all honesty, I had only really been curious about Jasper. But now I needed to focus on the Cullen's. I needed to see where they were if we had any hope of finding them. I hoped my mind would cooperate with my gift and let me prompt the visions I wanted.

I focused my thoughts on Carlisle Cullen, the patriarch of the family I wanted to join. His face came easily to mind, it swam hazily in front of my eyes. It was handsome and kind and my gaze zeroed in on the strange amber shade of his eyes that matched my own. He was standing in a kitchen? No, it was too large, too clinical to be a kitchen. There were pictures of skeletons on the wall behind him. Why? He was wearing a long white coat. Ah, he was a doctor? He must be. I looked around his surroundings some more but there was nothing suggestive about the location except that it was a hospital.

Shaking my head, I focused on Esme Cullen. Her sweet, heart-shaped face floated into view. She was standing in a wide, empty, white-walled room with a paint roller in one hand and a bucket in the other, staring at the wall with a smile of anticipation. Her caramel, wavy hair was piled up on top of her head in a messy bun as her slightly darker amber eyes took in her new project. I looked through the window behind her, but there was only darkness and encroaching forest, nothing indicative of location.

Sighing, I turned my focus on Edward Cullen. He was seated at a piano, chiseled jaw firmly set as his amber eyes focused on the black and white keys flitting under his fingers, composing a quick, complex tune. I had heard it before, well, rather I had seen him playing it before. I frowned. There was no hint of location with him either. Just a room with a piano; no windows.

Rosalie Hale-Cullen was kissing Emmet hungrily. She was only half clothed and sitting astride Emmet, who was grinning like a fool. I took a quick, cursory glance at their surroundings, a huge bedroom. Outside the window, there was only darkened forest. It looked similar to the forest that had been outside Esme's window. It probably was. I forced my vision away quickly.

I looked at Carlisle again. He, at least, was out of the house. This time there was a patient in front of him. The patient had a long, scarlet gash down the length of the right side of his face. Blood leached down his ear, his jaw, his neck, in long, mouthwatering rivulets. Getting a hold of myself, I hurriedly switched my focus to Edward as my throat suddenly burned with thirst. Never again would I taste human blood, I promised myself.

Edward was still sitting at the piano, playing a slower, serene tune. It was calming, relaxing, flowing, like water burbling in a small creek. I sighed, snuggling into the snow a little deeper and listened to the song in my head. Every once in a while Edward would chuckle under his breath or roll his eyes. I'd come to the conclusion years ago that he had a gift somewhat like mine, that he knew more that was immediately visible.

It was thoroughly dark and Venus was past it's zenith already when I heard Jasper returning. I kept my eyes closed, listening to his stealthy approach and to Edward's music simultaneously until he plopped down a few feet away with an angry grunt. He stared moodily out at the bay, frustration exuding from his every pore.

"Couldn't find one?" I asked.

He turned his head and glared at me - his eyes were bright crimson – before scowling back out at the Bay.

"Oh." I crawled over to him lithely and pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Jasper." I whispered in his ear as I hugged his back.

He shrugged moodily and we sat for a long time staring out at the bay together in silence, my arms looped around his chest, head resting on his shoulder, cheek to cheek. I didn't want to feel pity for him because I knew he would feel it and resent it. This new lifestyle was hard, I knew that. God only knew that I too had succumbed to weakness; had succumbed to the call of my thirst. It wasn't a transition I expected Jasper to achieve overnight, especially after decades of feeding on human blood. Instead, I focused on my love for him. It was an absolute emotion. It didn't matter to me in the slightest. He could massacre every human in the Western Hemisphere and I would still love him. Unconditionally.

The horizon was beginning to lighten when a cloudy, indistinct vision of Jasper leaving - sneaking away - next time he went to hunt, danced in front of my eyes. I gasped, it felt like he was crushing my heart again.

"What wrong? Why the panic?" He asked quickly, his head perking up to survey our surroundings.

"You wont leave me, will you, Jasper?" I cried in alarm as I crawled around to face him.

His eyes narrowed. "Not that again." He muttered, averting his gaze from my face.

"No, you don't understand, Jasper. I need you."

"Quit it."

I took his face in my hands and made him look at me. "Listen to me, please, Jasper. I can't live without you. There is nothing for me without you. Before I met you, there were days when I couldn't see you. And when I couldn't see you, I couldn't see anything, it was as though my future had been scrubbed out by an eraser. Please don't leave me, Jasper. I don't judge you, at all, for your past or your present or your future. Whatever decisions you make are fine by me, so long as you stay with me." I pleaded desperately.

He glared at me. "Alice, look at me. There's nothing about me to love."

"I am looking at you and there's everything about you to love." I insisted.

He ignored me. "And look at you." He said, as though it proved a point.

"I'd say I am looking at me, but it would be a lie." I said in an attempt at humor.

"You're beautiful and happy and innocent, Alice." He said, grabbing my hands from where they were still clasped on either side of his face, pushing them away. "And there's nothing I could give you."

My breath caught. He thought I was beautiful.

"I'm only happy because you're here. And I've made mistakes too, Jasper. I have tasted human blood. And as for what you could give me, Jasper, all I want is you. As damaged and unworthy as you think you are, you're all I want." I pleaded. "So please, please, please, please don't try to run away from me next time you go hunting. Because I will follow you. And when I catch you, I will latch myself onto you and not let go."

"But I _am_ damaged, Alice. And you deserve someone less deformed, less hateful than myself." He said, pushing my hands back against my chest. Pushing me away.

"Too bad I wont have anyone else, then." I said stubbornly. He rolled his eyes at me and I smiled. "I told you, you're fighting a losing battle."

"I believe _I _was the one to tell _you_ that."

"Yes, but mine's the only one that counts because I'm also a raging force of nature." I quipped. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and my breath caught in my throat. I was suddenly overpowered by the desire to kiss him. I wanted to kiss those lips, those charming, half-smiling lips that had told me I was beautiful. But I knew he would be resistant to the idea. I had to move quickly, before he caught on.

I all but lunged at him, one arm snaking it's way around his neck as I pushed my lips to his. He gasped and his hand tightened painfully over my arm for the merest of seconds as his instincts kicked in after so many years of attack. Then his hand slipped away and his lips were moving beneath mine, kissing me back; he wasn't unwilling. My hopes soared. My heart felt like it might burst in a fiery eruption of love and lust and sheer joy.

I would have cried in joy and relief, but I couldn't, so I kissed him harder, furiously, and his lips were firm and just as demanding under mine. His arms wrapped around me then, crushing me to his chest as I found that my hand had balled into a fist in his hair. Swirling emotions were crashing around me and I wasn't sure if they were emanating from him or from myself, love and lust and confusion and joy and relief, but the most potent was desire. It seemed so unlike him, and especially jarred with the conversation we'd just had; the conversation in which he'd rejected me again. Did he want this? Was he just appeasing me?

Seconds later, one hand on my shoulder, the other on my hip, he pushed me back into the snowbank. The full length of his body covered me, as he deepened the kiss, demanded responses from me I was only too willing to give. I arched into him, pulling him closer to me and his left arm wrapped around my waist, holding me against him. And all around me was his scent, heady and intoxicating. I could taste it on my lips mingled with the slight residue of human blood; delicious. I breathed in deeply and couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped my lips. Then suddenly he was gone, ripped from my grasp, and standing twenty feet away breathing heavily.

"Damn it, Alice." He hissed.

I sat up, blinking confusedly. "What?" I unsteadily got to my feet. "What's wrong? I'm sorry."

He walked very slowly, deliberately, back towards me until he was less than a foot away, then he took my face in his hands and kissed me very slowly and softly on the lips. It was a heartbreakingly tender kiss. It melted me, for once I felt like I was made of something soft instead of granite, and I sank into him.

He pulled away and looked me very seriously in the eye. "_Don't_ be so accommodating, Alice. Though we are not human, let us follow proper decorum."

I blinked. Then laughed. He was worried about my reputation? His reputation? Who really cared? Who would know any more than we told them? And who would we tell, anyway? I highly doubted the Cullen's would care if he and I had . . . But the _thought_ was so heartcrushingly tender. That he would care enough about my dignity to stop and want to do things properly cut my laughter short.

"And you say you're not a gentleman." I teased.

He looked away across the bay, scowling again. "Were you able to see the Cullen's?" He asked gruffly.

Grinning like an idiot, shouts of victory echoing in my head, I turned his face back to mine and kissed him softly. "I love you, Jasper Whitlock." I whispered, "But I haven't been able to see where they are yet. However, I can see them now, better than ever."

"And what are they doing?" He asked with a raised eyebrow as he took my hand in his and we started westward, following along the bay. "What are they like?"

Smiling wistfully, I began to describe the Cullen's to him. "Carlisle Cullen is their leader. He made all the rest of them. He works as a doctor, I think. And he must be immune to human blood, because last night I saw him taking care of a human with a nasty gash." I shook my head, trying to clear the vivid memory from my thoughts. "He's very caring and compassionate from everything I've ever seen of him. He was the first to decide to live like they do. They call themselves vegetarians.

"Carlisle's wife, Esme, is also very caring. She acts like a mother to the others, she likes taking care of everyone. She also likes redecorating houses. Several times when I've seen her, she's been painting, or putting together new furniture, or laying bathroom tile or something like that. It's kind of neat. I think they always live together, in a big house, just like a human family.

"Edward is their oldest "son". I think he has a gift like mine, though I'm not entirely sure how it works. I know that sometimes he knows things others don't. He's . . . he's kind of quiet, self-absorbed, in a way. Or maybe he's lonely. I'm not sure. He plays the piano very beautifully. I was listening to him play before you returned.

"Their other son is Emmet. He's a big, friendly guy, from what I can tell. He likes to play fight with Edward whenever he can, he likes that he's strong. He's also a prankster. He keeps the rest of the Cullen's on their toes. He's also completely head over heels for his wife, Rosalie Hale-Cullen.

"Rosalie is . . ." I hesitated, for the first time a little worried about meeting the Cullen's. What if Jasper liked Rosalie more than me? "Well, Rosalie is very beautiful. But she seems a little arrogant," I said, trying not to let my insecurities show, and trying not to depreciate my future sister unnecessarily. "She likes cars. I've seen her a couple times, working under the hood of a car."

"Hmm," Jasper said distractedly, "So there's five of them." He concluded grimly.

"You don't have to worry about them attacking. They wont hurt us."

"That's what you said last time." He pointed out.

I grimaced at the memory of the bloodthirsty newborn. "I only said that he might not attack us."

He chuckled grimly and squeezed my hand. It was reassuring and a swelling of giddiness rose up in me. He was mine. I wouldn't share him with anyone. _Mine. _I had won the battle he had told me I would lose, and we both knew it, no matter how much he may try to resist it.

We'd scarcely run more than an hour, frost covered trees glistening in the early morning gloom around us, when a different scene altogether slid before my eyes. I could see myself standing next to Jasper, hands linked expectantly, in front of a huge, polished log cabin. The front of the house was interrupted by three tall, floor to ceiling windows, which reflected off the early afternoon sunlight.

The house was encroached on all four sides by a wide, familiar-looking, snow covered forest. It was the same forest I had seen the previous night through the windows of Esme and Rosalie's rooms, I was sure of it. Towering pine and spruce trees waved in a breeze, creaking softly. Beside the house was a detached garage where I could see the hood of a brand new Corvette propped open. I wondered if Rosalie was behind it, tinkering with the car's inner workings, but it was impossible to see from this angle.

I had never seen the Cullen's house like this before and I was positive it was the Cullen's house. It felt like them. I had seen individual rooms within, but never the exterior visage. And the _clarity_ of the image was astonishing. The colors and definitions of everything was so sharp. I could see the shadows within the shadows of the garage. I could see the furniture, very designer, through the windows of the house. I wondered if the rest of the family was in the house. Would I catch a glimpse of Carlisle or Esme or Edward or Emmet or Rosalie through the window if I watched long enough?

But the image shimmered and began to fade before I could some to any constructive conclusion about the house; like it's location. Instead, Jasper's concerned, crimson eyes swam into view.

"Alice?" He asked anxiously.

I blinked and smiled at him. "Hi."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just saw the Cullen's house. I think . . . I think it means we're going the right way." I answered.

He raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

"Well, I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I saw us arriving there, so I think we must be doing something right." I offered uncertainly.

He frowned. "How do your visions work?"

"I've never really experimented with them before. For the last forty years, my priority has been finding you." I smiled at him, "But every time I focused on _seeing_ you, all I could see was you in that diner. I think I only had one shot at finding you. If I had decided _not_ to be in that diner when you walked in, I think my entire future would have disappeared."

"Like the days you couldn't see me?" He asked as he regarded me tenderly.

"Exactly like those days I couldn't see you." I whispered. The creeping terror that had taken up residence inside of me those days, that I had missed my chance somehow and that I would never see his face again – in my mind or in reality, was not easy to forget.

"Why do you think you couldn't see me sometimes?" He asked.

"I think because you hadn't made whatever decision that would bring you to me. That maybe you were indecisive?"

"Mmm, about leaving Maria, yes." He confirmed thoughtfully.

"And your friends?"

"Yes, Peter and Charlotte too."

A moment of silence passed as he watched my face contemplatively. His eyes were narrowed and his lips pursed in thought as he tapped his chin with his index finger. "So, let us suppose then, ma'am, that your gift works on the outcome of decisions. We decided to travel west and you were able to see our goal. If I'm right, if we decide to travel in a different direction, we may see a different outcome. "

I liked the way he said "we" and "us" and "our". It made us sound like a collective unit. To my ears, it made it sound like he thought we belonged together too. I smiled and turned due east, taking his hand in mine, I focused very hard on my decision, I began sprinting.

This time I felt my body stop short only minutes later as images flitted over my vision. I saw us reemerging on the craggy coastline, not much further east than where we had spent the night. I also saw, distinct against the blinding glare of the sun on the snow, two dark shapes lithely sprinting towards us. They seemed to be smiling as they came towards us, but I couldn't ever remember seeing them before.

"Alice? What do you see?"

I blinked and tried to smile reassuringly at him. "Visitors." I said, knowing that he wouldn't like the news.

He stiffened, a frustrated snarl crossing his face. "How many?" He demanded.

"Two, but I don't think they mean us any harm."

"Let me remind you that you're not a very good judge of that." He snapped.

I grimaced. "But they were smiling as they came towards us. I think they were following our scent. They weren't very far from where you found that polar bear."

His eyes narrowed further as he took in a deep breath, trying to catch their scent. Of course he couldn't; the wind was blowing in the wrong direction, exposing us to our pursuers. ""What did they look like?"

"A man and a woman, probably mates. They were holding hands. The woman was very small – well, like me – but she's very fair. Her hair is almost white. The man is brown haired and . . . like you a bit." I answered awkwardly.

"How so?"

I didn't want to answer, didn't want him to realize that I _had_ noticed his scars despite trying very hard not to notice them. Not because I thought they made him look deformed or dangerous, but to keep in check the rising swell of ache and pity that would have overflowed if I allowed myself to think of his suffering. Instead, I ran my finger lightly along a faded gash over his left eyebrow. A low growl emitted from his throat before he checked it.

"Peter and Charlotte." He said darkly.

"Your friends?" I asked, confused by his tone.

He looked down at me and grinned wryly. "We didn't part on such good terms."

I nodded then paused. This was it, the decision I had been struggling with for so long. Which did I want _more_? Jasper or the Cullen's? And suddenly the answer was so much clearer than it had ever been before. It was obvious, really. Sure, I _wanted_ the Cullen's in my life. I wanted to become a part of their happy family, but I _needed_ Jasper. I needed him more than I needed blood. "Wherever you go, Jasper, I'll go with you." I promised.

He snorted and shook his head. "You are such a . . . I don't even know what to call you, Alice. How could you promise to give up your future, for me of all people, if I chose to go back to Peter and Charlotte?"

"Easily. I love you." Then, acting braver than I felt, I took his hand in mine and began walking slowly east again. Heart breaking with every step I took, I watched how the face of each of the Cullen's grew fainter and fainter in my mind as I grew more resolved. Jasper was the pivotal center of my existence. I could live, however marginally, without the rest.

He wrapped his arm firmly around my waist and pulled me close to his side. "I said I would go with you to the Cullen family, didn't I?"

I nodded mutely, desperately fighting against the hope rising in my chest. I so wanted to have my cake and eat it too - figuratively speaking. "But they're your family, Jasper. I would never presume to make you choose between me and them."

"You would rather that I force you to make that choice then?" He asked, squeezing me a little tighter.

"Never. I go where you go, Jasper. Consider the Cullen's already forgotten." I proclaimed with false bravado.

He laughed, a sardonic little chuckle, "Well, I hope not. I'm not sure how we'll find them without your incredible talent."

I looked sharply at his face to see, reluctant to believe, if he was only leading me on. But he was watching me earnestly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Really?" I demanded incredulously.

"Of course. I cannot live the way Peter and Charlotte do, anymore. The Cullen's are an answer for me."

I couldn't help the hysterical laugh that erupted from my chest as I danced out of his grip then jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist like a bizarre monkey, I took his face between my hands and kissed him fervently. He leaned away far too soon for my liking. "I love you, Jasper. I would have followed you anywhere, no matter how miserable it made me."

He rolled his eyes and looked embarrassed while I disentangled myself from him, before his expression turned serious again. "Did you want to meet them?" He asked tentatively, doubtfully.

I paused and frowned. Did I want to meet them? If it had been Maria, I would have said yes in an instant, if only for the simple pleasure of being able to kill her for what she'd done to him. I would have hoped that I lasted just long enough to do some damage before she loosed her newborn army on me. But Peter and Charlotte - the two newborns that had escaped then come back to rescue him - I didn't feel any animosity toward. No need to destroy them for the marks they had left on my one true love. Instead, I felt a great rush of gratitude towards them for fishing him out of the mess he had been in.

"I would love to." I said brightly.

He hesitated, his gaze flicking over my face before he nodded slowly. He took my hand in his, before he began leading us back the way we'd came. I smiled. I liked the new way he seemed comfortable touching me; liked the reassuring warmth of his hand in mine, the comfort and safety I felt when he put his arm around me, the flutter in my dead heart when he kissed me. My mind dwelling on these thoughts, it seemed we were almost immediately back where we had started out that morning.

We passed the corpse of the polar bear out on the ice, snow already drifting around it, my snow angel, my comfortable divot in the snow where I had watched the Cullen's, the larger depression where I had comforted him and kissed him for the first time. It seemed an age ago already, mere hours after in incident. It seemed like a distant dream, that there had been a time when Jasper and I weren't so naturally comfortable with each other. I leaned and kissed his shoulder, the nearest point to me, and watched, with satisfaction, the small smile that tugged at his lips.

And then we could see them; the faint silhouettes of Peter and Charlotte trudged across the snow at the outer limits of our vision. They caught sight of us and quickened their approach while Jasper protectively tugged me a little behind his body. I allowed him to shield me with an exasperated sigh, content that there was no real danger, before wrapping my arms around him and pressing my cheek to his back. His hands ran lightly over my fingers where they rested over his stomach.

"Jazz!" Charlotte called cheerfully as they closed the distance between us.

"Jasper." Said Peter in a warm, hearty tone.

"Peter, Charlotte, hello." He replied crisply with a perfunctory nod.

"We've been tracking you for days. We caught your scent just west of Cincinnati." Peter said.

Jasper nodded again, accepting the explanation mutely. He didn't seem inclined to say anything more. I sighed and stepped out from behind him, eager to meet his friends. "Hello, my name is Alice." I introduced myself cheerfully.

I was expecting chipper hello's or embarrassed musings at Jasper's manners from them. I wasn't expecting the way they both instinctively took a step back, crouched and growled. Jasper pushed me behind him again and snarled ferociously.

"Her _eyes_." Charlotte hissed, her white blond hair fluttering around her face.

"What is she?" Peter demanded.

"Calm down, please!" I cried in shock, putting a restraining hand on Jasper's shoulder. My protest snapped Peter and Charlotte out of their stances, they straightened up, watching me warily. "Jasper, please." I pleaded softly. He slowly straightened, every fiber of his being tensed and ready to attack his old friends.

"Alice is like us, except she feeds only on animals." Jasper explained testily. "And you _will not_ touch her."

Peter took a deep breath. "Of course not. We apologize." He said, addressing me. "Forgive us, your appearance startled us. It's very nice to meet you."

I smiled. "I didn't realize I was so startling. It's nice to meet you too."

"Is it your . . . unusual diet that causes the coloration in your eyes?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes." I affirmed.

They seemed more curious now than anything and asked numerous questions about my way of life. "How do you manage to hunt them?", "Why hunt them?", "Does the blood taste better than it smells?", "Is it filling at all?".

"I'm trying out Alice's way of life now." Jasper affirmed when the conversation turned back to him.

"Of course, I understand, Jasper. I know how the hunt . . . affected you." Peter said with a nervous flick of his gaze my way. "How has it been coming along?"

A bitter smile crossed Jasper's face, but he nodded his head in the direction of the snow covered polar bear corpse on the ice in the distance behind us. "It is . . . difficult, but not wholly impossible." He answered.

Their eyes fell on the corpse in the distance and Charlotte raised an eyebrow, "Polar bear?" She asked.

Peter chuckled. "I have to say, though, Jasper, I was a bit surprised to see you waiting for us."

"Alice saw you coming. She wanted to meet you." Jasper said coolly.

"Saw us coming?" Charlotte asked suspiciously.

"Alice is also . . . gifted." Jasper replied cryptically.

I rolled my eyes. "I can see the future, somewhat." I confided. Jasper sighed in annoyance beside me.

Both of their eyebrows shot up. "Impressive." Charlotte murmured.

"Indeed," Peter agreed, "But that wasn't what I meant. I was a bit under the impression that we would have to tackle you down to speak with you."

Jasper grunted. "What did you want to speak to me about?"

Charlotte sighed heavily. "Jasper, you know we love you. We're sorry, we should have been more sensitive."

"Peter's neck was plenty sensitive." Jasper said acidly.

"Jasper!" I cried in outrage as Charlotte snarled. Peter stood immobile, tensed in the same stance as Jasper.

He looked at me for a long second before sighing loudly. "I'm sorry, Charlotte, Peter." He said and he sounded the most relaxed he had the entire conversation. "My behavior has been unacceptable, both now and . . . before. Can you forgive me?" He said as he took a step toward them, allowing the largest gap between us since he had first heard they were coming.

"_I_ can, Jasper." Peter said before pulling him into a tight bear hug. "Ah, my friend, my comrade, my brother, I would have nothing if it weren't for you."

Charlotte nodded a bit begrudgingly. "Of course, Jasper."

"I suppose you'll be going with Alice now, then?" Peter asked. "Can we visit you? Where are you headed?"

"Alice has seen a family of vampires named the Cullen's. They're like her. She thinks that they'll welcome us." Jasper answered, taking my hand in his.

I smiled ruefully. "I haven't been able to see exactly where they are yet. Somewhere west of here, we think."

"I hope you find them." Peter said sincerely. "When you do, Jasper, you know the address I keep. Send me a letter."

"I will." Jasper promised with a genuine smile.

"Well then, we'll be off and leave you to your search." Charlotte smiled. "I think we'll be heading south now. I know the cold doesn't _really_ bother me, but I miss the warmth and humidity of the South. It's comforting to me."

"Nice to meet you, Alice." Peter said pleasantly, then shared a secret smile with Charlotte, the kind of smile one gave when something they had silently suspected finally came to pass.

"Nice to meet you too." I said graciously before they turned and sprinted southward.

Jasper wrapped his arm around my shoulders before kissing the crown of my head. "You're too likable. I was ready to kill them last time I saw them."

"Mm, I gathered. Maybe you're just too irritable." I quipped.

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**A/N: **Jasper may seem a bit confusing in this to you, I'm not sure. In my mind, Jasper in this time period isn't quite the same as he is in the Twilight series. His entire existence, he has taken anything he wanted by force. But now he's at war with himself. Don't let his rejections fool you, he wants Alice very badly, but he doesn't think he deserves her. So now he's warring with the choice of taking the easy way out and taking what she wants to offer him, or doing what he thinks is right, and resist her. He doesn't want her ending up regretting her love for him, later, when he thinks she will find someone more suitable for her. Of course, he doesn't realize just how determined Alice is either.


	4. Chapter 4

Well, here's the next chapter. It's kind of short, but I'm determined to upload this the same way it was written. So yes, this is the shortest chapter yet, but I promise there will be another chapter up in the next day or two.

And now, enjoy the much anticipated first meeting with the Cullen family. ^-^

~Allora Gale~

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Jasper's theory about my visions was correct, so we were able to use my ability like a ludicrous compass to find our way towards the Cullen's. We leap-frogged across Canada, stopping every twenty or thirty miles to redirect. Our progress was slow. Sometimes I wouldn't be able to see the Cullen's house at all, and I suspected that these were the times that Jasper was plagued by doubts. I suspected he still, secretly, toyed with the idea of leaving me and going off on his own. These periods of blindness, however, became less and less frequent the closer we came to the house.

And I knew we were slowly getting closer to the Cullen's. With every leap, the Cullen's house became clearer and more detailed in my mind's eyes. Suddenly, I noticed the precise shade of the varnish on the house or the exact labels on the tools and materials sitting in the garage. The forest around the house became more alive, I could see the way the roots of the trees crossed each other. I noticed an eagles nest sitting precariously on the top branches of one of the tall pine trees behind the house. These things and so many more became all too clear with each subsequent leg of the journey.

Three and a half weeks of Jasper's comfortable company later, we came across the first trace of their scent. Somehow, I immediately knew it was the scent of one of the Cullen's, despite the fact that my visions couldn't translate smell to me. If they had been able to, I would have been well used to Jasper's intoxicating scent by now. But I wasn't and still breathed it in deeply whenever I could, which usually caused him to smile a little.

We were hunting when we crossed the trail. Jasper had made remarkable progress with his self-control while hunting over the last few weeks. He had asked me to go with him, to monitor him, to try to stop him – as if I could – if he tried to hunt a human. I had only been too glad to comply, considering I was still plagued by fears that he would try to sneak away without me. His eyes were now a muddy burgundy color – halfway between scarlet and amber.

The trail was fairly distant from their home and several weeks old; the scent was weak. But crossing it fired new determination in us. We were close! Oh, so close now!

It took just three more days, redirecting more precisely every four or five miles, for me to finally pull up short. In the distance, a tall, scrawny pine tree was swaying in the breeze, a familiar-looking eagles nest teetering dangerously at it's top. I stopped and looked at Jasper meaningfully.

"What?" He asked defensively as I smoothed my hands over his shirt.

"Jasper." I said softly but seriously. "I know you have . . . issues . . . with people, but please try to be nice."

His eyes flickered to our surroundings. "Are we there?" He asked. We had crossed the many scents of the Cullen's so many times by now, their trails criss-crossed across this area so much it was almost a solid blanket of scent, that we had long since become desensitized to them.

"Very close." I answered.

He nodded stiffly, clutching my hand tightly as he eyed the surrounding trees like they were suddenly about to attack. "I will be the best my behavior allows."

I smiled and kissed him softly. He drew me into his embrace tightly, almost as though he wanted to hide me away inside of him, before reluctantly releasing me. "Shall we then, sir?" I asked gently.

"We shall, ma'am." He nodded, still tense.

We walked, me guiding while Jasper walked like a protective shield a pace ahead of me. His every muscle looked tensed and coiled, ready to spring as his eyes darted from side to side into the trees. He wasn't crouched, but his movements took on a sinuous, stealthy air to them; a gait I had only seen while he was hunting.

Then we broke through the trees and the scene was exactly as I had seen it a hundred times. Windows glinting in the low afternoon sun, the house looked cozy and warm. In the garage, the red and white corvette sat with it's hood up. I heard the faint clinking from behind the hood suddenly fall silent.

Rosalie peeked her head around the hood of the car and a quiet hiss escaped her lips. Jasper's hand jerked, as though fighting back an instinct to crouch or lunge. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Carlisle!" Rosalie called in a panic. It wasn't a loud call, but we could still hear it from where we stood at the end of the driveway.

With a flurry of movement, Carlisle appeared at the door to the house, Esme following a step behind. The family converged together, forming a little "v" with Carlisle at the point. They stood motionless in front of the open garage door, watching us carefully. I noticed their eyes kept flicking to Jasper, watching him like hawks, for any sign of movement.

I smiled giddily and took a step toward my future family, tugging Jasper behind me. The years, the insufferable years, that I had spent waiting; first for Jasper and now for this moment made the moment seem surreal. How could it be that I was _finally_ here? And with Jasper, the man I loved, at my side too. I kept thinking I had to _wake up_ somehow. Perhaps my entire existence had been nothing more than a very long, monotonous dream. But no, they were there, I could hear their breaths, smell their scents. I was able to distinguish between them just whose trails we had crossed.

"Carlisle!" I greeted happily. "I mean, Dr. Cullen, right? It's so nice to finally see you face to face. And Esme you have such a lovely home here. Ah, Rosalie, you look so much more beautiful in person." My eyes flickered to Jasper then, but he wasn't paying Rosalie any mind. His eyes were glued to Carlisle, watching for any indication they meant to attack. Shaking my head, I looked around, but no one else seemed to be joining us. "Are Edward and Emmet not here?"

"Do you know us?" Carlisle asked tentatively.

"Alice is gifted. She sees things." Jasper said sharply behind me. I sent him a reproachful look for his tone, but his eyes were still glued to Carlisle.

"I'm sorry." I said suddenly. "I'm being incredibly dense. My name is Alice Brandon. This is my one true love, Jasper Whitlock." I said with a playful smile as I skipped forward to shake Carlisle's hand. Jasper was at my shoulder instantly. "It's so nice to meet you."

Esme stepped back in alarm and Rosalie let out a harsh snarl. Only Carlisle remained completely motionless. "Rose." He said warningly before he reached out and shook my hand. His grip was firm and reassuring, but contact seemed to make Jasper uneasy. He put a hand gently on my waist and pulled me away while he offered his hand to be shaken.

"Jasper Whitlock." He said and the tone of his voice sounded like it was meant to intimidate.

Carlisle shook Jasper's hand without the slightest trace of recoil; he was as unmoved by Jasper's tone as a rock would have been. "Pleasure." He said pleasantly. I felt my admiration soar for the good doctor. I knew the effect Jasper had on people, I could see the reasons why he looked dangerous, intimidating and terrifying at the same time. They simply had no bearing on me.

"So, which room can I have? I don't have anything to move in with me at the moment, but I do have a rather large savings account and a very long shopping list. Everything I've ever wanted to buy has been tallied up in my head. My room is going to look gorgeous, even you will agree Esme." I said excitedly.

I could already see it in my mind. Maybe I would ask Esme for her opinion and help putting it together. A beautiful four post oak bed with black and white contrasting covering. A matching desk in the corner with my own sewing machine on it. A book case in the corner next to an overstuffed armchair. A vanity opposite the desk with polished brass handles next to a full length mirror. Two sets of dressers, three if Jasper would share the room with me. It would be beautiful and elegant and practical, all at the same time.

"Excuse me?" Carlisle asked in alarm.

Jasper rolled his eyes and shook his head at me.

"Oh!" I cried in alarm, flooding with embarrassment. "I got ahead of myself, didn't I? My gift, as Jasper puts it, is . . . well, I can sometimes see the future. And I've seen myself here, rather, I've seen us here, living with your family." I corrected.

Rosalie snorted dismissively while Carlisle's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh." Was all he managed to say for several minutes. I wrapped my arm around Jasper's waist as I let him mull over my proposal. I knew he was going to say yes, he _had_ to say yes, I'd done everything right_,_ but I waited patiently nonetheless. Just like Jasper didn't know that he loved me yet, neither did Carlisle know that I belonged in his family. Yet.

"Well," He finally said. "I see you're already familiar with our way of life."

"We've been practicing. I have for longer than Jasper, but he's doing really well." I said enthusiastically.

"Yes. You may stay with us." Carlisle said deliberately.

I squealed in delight and Jasper chuckled next to me. "You knew he would say yes." He reminded me.

"Well, I _thought_ he would say yes and after the way you showed up in my life, I was pretty sure he would say yes. But once, years ago, in a vision, he told me no and turned me away." I revealed. It had been the one and only day I hadn't gone into a diner to wait for Jasper. "So, where are you putting me, Esme?"

"Oh," Her delicate eyebrows shot up in surprise, then furrowed together. "I hadn't really thought . . . I suppose you can pick whichever room appeals to you most, dear."

I beamed at her and pulled Jasper behind me as I raced into the house. Everything was placed so perfectly. Every ornament sat at just the right angle, every piece of furniture complemented each other just so. Traces of Esme's attention were everywhere.

I bounded up the stairs into the loft above where there were a number of bedrooms and examined each one closely, then up the next set of stairs to the solitary room at the top. The roof of the room vaulted to a point with the frame of the house. Outside the wide window on the opposite wall, the eagles nest was clearly visible; my beacon.

I smiled, "This one."

"There's someone's things in it." Jasper pointed out from the threshold.

"They can be moved." I assured him with a devious grin.


	5. Chapter 5

As promised, here's the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Here it is; Alice and Jasper's first time meeting Emmet and Edward, but mostly just Edward. I'm afraid Rosalie and Emmet are sorely underrepresented in this story, sorry.

Enjoy.

~Allora

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Esme had been only too willing to accompany me on my shopping trip the next day - she thought it was a little funny that I had decided to commandeer what I now knew was Edward's room - and Jasper seemed terrified to leave my side. I had hoped that perhaps Carlisle and Rosalie would come too, but Carlisle was due at the hospital and Rosalie was being a bit standoffish. I didn't explicitly know why, but I figured Jasper's presence had something to do with it. I don't think she liked him.

Not that Jasper had been particularly warm to any of them either. I realized it wasn't really in his nature to like people. It was more in his nature to size people up and deem how much of a threat they were. And for the moment, Rosalie seemed like the biggest threat. I thanked my lucky stars that I was small enough to not pose a significant threat to him. Would he ever have come with me if I looked as imposing as Rosalie? It seemed unlikely.

I paused in the furniture store we were shopping at in Prince George. There wasn't a whole lot of choice, but the bedroom set before me appealed to me; a light varnished oak four post bed that was a little blockier and more rustic than I had imagined, but it still seemed to fit. I ran my hand over the matching dresser and frowned.

Now would be a good time to ask him. Esme had left us alone for a few minutes to pick up some things she wanted to buy and there was no one else within listening distance, not that I cared what the humans thought anyway. I was making such a big deal over something so small. It's not like sharing a room with Jasper had any of the same connotations as it did for humans. It wasn't as though we had to sleep next to each other night after night, we didn't sleep. It simply meant that his things and my things would be kept together. That we would share a sanctuary. And I wanted him to share the sanctuary I was creating with me. I liked the idea of his things next to mine, it made it seem like we really belonged together. But what if he didn't want to?

"What's wrong?" Jasper asked, arms immediately around me in a sheltering hug as he warily surveyed our surroundings. His eyes fell on a grinning salesman who promptly turned and hurried away when he caught Jasper glaring at him. "Why are you nervous? What did you see?"

I looked up at him and kissed the bottom of his chin softly. "Jasper, I want to ask you something."

He looked at me suspiciously and raised an eyebrow. "Okay."

I hesitated and he frowned. The longer I waited, the more anxious I would get, making him more anxious in turn. It was best to just get it over with. "Well, I know Esme offered you one of the rooms on the second floor, but I wanted to know if maybe you'd . . . like to share my room with me instead?" The last part came out so fast if almost sounded like a single word.

His frown deepened and he let me go, taking a wide step away. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Alice."

"Please, Jasper." I pleaded.

"No." He said firmly.

I winced and couldn't help the hurt I felt. This rejection stung so much more than any other had because there was no silver lining to it. It wasn't that he didn't love me yet, but he would still follow me blindly across the continent. It wasn't that he didn't want me physically, but rather that he wanted to protect my virtue. This time it was simply that he didn't want to share a room with me. Period. No gentle let down.

Was I simply a means to an end? The means that had brought him to the Cullen's where he could learn a new way of life, and now that he was here he no longer needed me? I didn't want to believe that. I didn't want to feel used, so I forced myself to remember the way he had sheltered me as soon as he had felt I was nervous. Surely _that_ counted for something, or did he merely think of me as breakable and weak? Someone that needs protecting because she's unable to take care of herself, even in a furniture shop?

I turned away from him, feigning memorizing the model number of the dressers, before I began walking away, eyes burning with my inability to shed tears. He groaned and a wave of soothing peace and serenity enveloped me.

"Don't, Jasper." I said as irritably as I could manage under the influence of his ability.

He sighed in annoyance and shadowed me broodingly, withdrawing his tranquility, as I took a piece of paper off one of the sales people's desks and scribbled down all the model numbers I wanted. The bed set, a desk, a vanity, a book case, a mirror and _two_ dressers; not the three I had imagined and hoped for. I handed it to the lady behind the desk, scarcely looking at it. "I want these. And I'll need them delivered tonight." I ordered somewhat brusquely.

The woman behind the desk, her name tag labeled her as Maggie, began meticulously filling out the my order. "Now where was it you wanted it all delivered, hon?" She asked after several minutes had passed.

Esme appeared then and rattled off the address of the Cullen house just outside of Fort Nelson. The woman's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "But that's almost ten hours away. There's no way we can get a driver to go that far tonight. It's already three in the afternoon."

I nodded. "I will give the driver an extra fifty dollars on top of all the delivery fees if they'll drive it tonight." I said, fishing a stack of bills out of my purse.

Maggie's jaw dropped a little, then she nodded curtly. "Let me talk to the drivers." She muttered distractedly as she got up from her desk and hurried away.

"How do you have so much money?" Esme asked suspiciously.

"I wasn't always as honest as I'm being now." I said evasively, then relented. "Human banks are only too easy to break into. Especially in 1923."

Esme shook her head disapprovingly but couldn't help the small smile that played on her lips. I laughed. I didn't look at Jasper; I wouldn't have been able to look at his face without feeling the sting of rejection again.

Money can move mountains. Maggie returned, told me there would be no problem with the delivery and that the truck was being loaded as we spoke. I paid for my goods with my own money, for the first time in decades, and we left the store, racing back home in Esme's car.

The delivery truck arrived at the house only two hours after we did.

"Alice." Jasper stopped me after we'd dragged all the boxes up to my new room and put all of Edward's thing into the garage. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"I'm fine." I lied as I viciously tore into the first box. He raised his eyebrow and looked pointedly at me. "I will be fine." I amended. "Just go read a book or something downstairs. Your hovering is making me uncomfortable."

He frowned, I thought I saw a little hurt in his eyes, but he nodded and disappeared. I felt horrible, but I just wanted to suffer alone for a bit. I wanted time to be alone with my emotions. He hadn't moved more than three feet from my side all day. I didn't know how far his gift ranged, but I hope the two stories that now separated us would be enough of a buffer zone.

Pulling pieces of my furniture out of their boxes. I constructed the pieces mindlessly as I lost myself in my feelings. I wondered if I was overreacting, it wasn't that he didn't want to be with me, just that he didn't want to share a room with me. But I shook the thought away. No, even just now he had said he didn't _want _to hurt my feelings, not that he didn't mean to.

But if that was the case, then why was he still being so protective? Was I really so pathetic in his eyes that I needed constant supervision? Really, even if I couldn't take care of myself, what harm would come to me here, in the safety of our own home? But I _could_ take care of myself, I reminded myself petulantly. It had been me, not Jasper, who had finished off the crazed newborn that had attacked us before. _I _had saved him, protected him. Not the other way around.

And, of course, I didn't regret it at all. I quelled that vindictive thought before it could fully form. I didn't want Jasper to ever be in pain. Ever. My mind flickered to that tiniest trace of hurt on his face when I'd sent him away. Did I regret that? . . . I would make it up to him. Later. After. I needed space to think and feel first. Then I would apologize. Then I would do what I could to make him feel better. After I felt better.

But would I feel better? Were there any answers in his gestures? In his words? _How did he feel?_All I wanted was his heart. Not even that. All I wanted was for him to take my heart. I just wanted him to hold onto it and keep it safe. That was all I was asking for. I could endure if he didn't love me, just so long as he let me love him. That wasn't so hard, was it? Relatively effortless. He just had to put up with me.

Or was that the problem? He didn't want to put up with me? That thought hurt more than all the others combined. Maybe if I acted more like him, maybe if I was more reserved, he could tolerate my company better. I could try. I could be demure, distant, soft-spoken. I could be, if I tried.

I would have to try very hard. It wasn't my nature at all, but I would do it. Because Jasper Whitlock was worth fighting for. And then, when he saw what I could be for him - I could be anything he wanted - then he wouldn't mind my company so much. Maybe he would enjoy it even. Maybe then he'd even grow to like me too, to love me. Yes, I would try.

The bedroom set didn't take nearly enough time to put together. My mind had been made up, but I was reluctant to go downstairs and put it into action. Not because the prize wasn't worth it, but rather because it meant leaving pieces of myself behind. I sat down in the middle of the bed and frowned. Once, he had said he liked me, _the real me_, hadn't he? But no, he just liked my emotional climate. So if I could act serious while I felt happy, then he should doubly like me, shouldn't he?

The front door opened and I heard unfamiliar footsteps enter. Edward and Emmet? Then I heard a cacophony of low, angry snarls.

Jasper!

I was out the door and down the first flight of stairs without another thought. As I cleared the landing, I was able to see the scene unfolding below. Edward and Emmet were crouched low in the doorway, ready to attack. Jasper was standing very erect next to the couch, an opened book on the floor next to him. He was eying the newcomer's with a challenging sneer, as though daring them to make a move.

I leaped over the railing, dropping from the loft to the first floor, and landed at Jasper's side. He grabbed my arm instantly and pushed me behind him, not taking his eyes away from Edward and Emmet. I laid my hand calmly on his arm and stepped out from behind him.

Edward straightened up first, followed more reluctantly by Emmet, who kept eying Jasper like a human might have to a rabid dog. Carlisle and Esme were in the doorway leading to the kitchen and Rosalie had suddenly appeared at Emmet's shoulder.

"Edward. Emmet." I said as cheerfully as my new, reserved character would allow. "So nice to finally meet you." I said as I left Jasper's side to give each of my new brother's a hug. Jasper growled almost inaudibly. "I'm Alice. This is Jasper. We've joined your family."

The tension in the room was almost tangible. I stepped back to Jasper's side and looked at him pointedly. "You could _help_ a little, you know." I whispered low enough so the other's wouldn't hear.

Very light, subtle pulses of calm began drifting around the room. I took a deep breath and Emmet smiled sheepishly at us. "Sorry, got a bit carried away, I guess."

"I take it that you're the reason all my things are in the garage?" Edward asked.

"My fault, Edward." Esme piped up as she and Carlisle came further into the room. "I told Alice she could have any room she wanted."

"Hmph." He said awkwardly.

Now that it became apparent there wasn't going to be a fight, Rosalie dragged Emmet off to have some together time. I was a little jealous that they could have together time, while Jasper and I couldn't, because Jasper didn't want to. I pushed those thoughts forcefully away.

"I didn't see your piano, Edward. I expected it to be in your room." I said conversationally as Carlisle and Esme slipped back into the kitchen.

He looked perturbed for a moment and I realized I'd gotten ahead of myself again. He didn't know that I knew he played. Didn't know that I'd sat for hours listening to his music. "Right. You see the future." He said with an awkward click of his tongue.

Jasper tensed beside me again but I smiled. "And you do . . what? I've seen that you can do something, but I'm not sure what. Can you do the same as me?" I asked.

He paused, eying me up, then watching Jasper carefully for a moment. "I read minds." He finally admitted. Jasper growled.

Oh. Well that made some thing's I'd seen make a lot more sense. It gave some of the half conversations I'd been an invisible witness to make a lot more sense. "Huh." I managed to say. I wondered how that must feel. Did he hear everyone's voices all at once or could he target it? I imagined for a moment what it would have been like it I saw _everyone's_ futures simultaneously. It would have been maddening.

Edward chuckled. "It is sometimes."

My jaw dropped a little. "Are you? Did you just?" I spluttered.

"Yes. Sorry." He confirmed.

How did the rest of the Cullen's stand it? Was there no privacy while Edward was around? How could they have private thoughts and secrets with Edward around? And I'd thought Jasper's ability to know what I was feeling was difficult to work around. Imagine the trouble being around Edward was going to be, when my brother could read all my thoughts.

Then I stopped lamenting the loss of privacy as I thought of what it must be like for him. The poor guy. Could he block it all out? He must have some way of managing it. Ugh, being able to hear the thoughts of all his family members must not always be a treat for him either. Especially with all the couples he lived with. I remembered my brief visit to Rosalie and Emmet's futures and the sheer awkwardness of intruding on their intimacy. Imagine someone's thoughts shouting _that_ at him.

Edward laughed. "Alright, Alice. I suppose we'll keep you. Your thoughts are very refreshing. Very _humorous_." He said. The way he said it made it sound like I was a stray puppy that had wandered in and needed to prove itself worthy of being kept. I guess, in some ways, it was true. It wasn't so far off the mark. Just a couple of strays, Jasper and I, looking for a place to call home.

"Why so curious about my piano?" Edward asked as he closed the wide-open front door behind him and took off his jacket.

I shrugged. "It's just that, almost every time I've seen you, you've been sitting at the piano. I was beginning to think you were attached to the thing." I laughed.

"Piano's in the basement. I never spent much time in my room anyway." Edward said with a shrug. I realized then that Jasper hadn't said a word since the Cullen boys had returned home. I squeezed his hand but he was staring darkly at Edward. "He's saying plenty to me, Alice." Edward said sharply.

"Nice things, I hope." I said, knowing that he wasn't.

"Right." Edward said awkwardly. "Well, welcome to the family anyway. I'll be in the basement."

Edward disappeared down the hall and down a flight of stairs, leaving Jasper and I standing in the living room, hands joined. "Jasper." I said disappointedly. "You are very easy to be around, when you want to be. Can be charming even. I wish you would let other people see that."

"I don't like him in my head." He said darkly.

"I'm sure he doesn't like it any more than you do." I said softly.

Jasper grunted in response as a muted stream of music filtered up from the basement. It was a very beautiful, slow song with long, haunting pauses. It was a sad song that brought to mind all too clearly those day's when my future had been blinded from me. I closed my eyes as I listened to the melody. It wasn't an unwelcome kind of sadness that it brought to mind. That chapter of my life was, after all, over now. I had my future. Jasper was with me, unwillingly as he may be, and we had found the Cullen's who had welcomed us with open arms. All that remained was settling in, getting to know my family, and winning Jasper's heart.

Jasper dropped back down onto the sofa and pulled the book back into his lap, quickly finding his page. "Do you want to be alone?" I asked tentatively. Everything about his posture was dismissive and deflective.

"Just go down there and listen, Alice. Don't worry about me." He said wearily.

"Okay. I'll leave you alone for a bit." I whispered, hiding my hurt. I suppose his dismissal was just revenge for me sending him away earlier.

Sighing heavily, I followed the path Edward had taken downstairs. The song changed into something quicker. I recognized it immediately, he played this one often.

"Thank you, Edward." Esme called from somewhere above.

"This one's Esme's favorite." Edward explained as he gestured for me to sit on the bench next to him.

I sat and he continued playing without pause. I didn't know how to play, had never actually lain a hand on a piano before, but I _liked_ it. Not just the music, but the instrument itself too. It was a work of art in and of itself; a beautiful contraption built to emit beautiful sounds. I liked the permanence of the thing. I had never had a piano because I'd never had anywhere to put it. I think, if I had had somewhere to put one, I would have bought one just to admire, even without being able to play it. This was the kind of thing one only found in a _home_. Well, a home or a concert hall. A permanent thing in a permanent home. It was comforting.

"It's very nice." I said. I was, by no means, a music expert. Over the years, fashion was basically the only human thing I'd payed attention to. Music had changed. Buildings. Cars. Ideals. These things held little interest to me at all. But for the sake of not drawing undue attention to myself, I had kept up with the times on the issue of clothing. But music, this music, soft and enchanting as it flowed from it's ebony maker, made me regret my lack of interest. It was nothing like, completely incomparable to, the scratchy songs that had clawed their way out of countless jukeboxes in diners across the states.

"Thank you." Edward said as the song morphed into another slow, sad sounding song.

I frowned. It was very odd to think that he had just heard my whole reasoning, my whole interpretation of his music. How much _more_ he must glean from people. How much better his judge of character must be, being able to look in and see all the tiny facets of their brain's inner workings. Even now he was listening to me muse. I laughed. "Are you always . . . Or can you turn it off?"

He smiled. "I try not to listen, for the most part. Some voices are harder for me to block out than others. Yours, for example. And your friend upstairs' 'voice' is also incredibly loud."

"Jasper." I corrected automatically, then grimaced. My _friend._ Only a friend. "I'm sorry about Jasper. He doesn't really like people, I don't think."

"Yes, I gathered as much." Edward said with a wry smile, fingers still dancing over the piano keys. "He seems to like you well enough though. He's very protective of you, isn't he?"

I sighed. Yes, Jasper was very protective of me. Why? I wasn't quite sure. The same question that had plagued me all evening came clawing back into my consciousness. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why couldn't he love me back when I loved him so so so much? Why couldn't he just be content with letting me love him? He couldn't even stand my company at the moment.

That wasn't fair. I was the one who had banished him earlier that afternoon. I'm sure he needed alone time sometimes just as much as I did.

"Ah. I see."

"I hope he didn't think anything too . . . mean." I said, wincing.

"_You_ don't need to apologize for anything. Let Jasper think what he wants. I'll pretend I didn't hear any of it." Edward

replied, his fingers never pausing over the piano keys.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello, all my lovely readers. Before I say anything else, I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story so far. As writers yourselves, I'm sure you know just how encouraging receiving reviews for something you've put a bunch of effort into is. It's incredibly gratifying. Which is why I'm uploading this now. I was going to wait a few more day, but your reviews got me excited. ^^

So, in this chapter, you get to see Jasper as I imagined he was. This is not, strictly speaking, Meyer's Jasper. By the time of Twilight, he's had some practice at being civilized. During the time period this story takes place, Jasper is still rough around the edges. He's still a little uncontrolled. And you get to see that this chapter. You also get a taste of just how devastating his gift can be. I hope you enjoy it. And just to reassure you : No Alice's or Edward's were physically harmed during the creation of this story.

I hope you all enjoy. And please review. They mean so much to me. ^^

~Allora

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It was hours later when the vision brushed through my thoughts. Edward had long since given up on playing the piano and I had long since gone up to my room, leaving Jasper with his book on the couch. I was curled up in the center of my bed, thinking about Jasper, about my feelings for him, about the way Edward had understood so easily my predicament, about the way this place already felt like home, how I'd never known what I home had felt like before. About a thousand different things.

Then, suddenly all my worries slipped away and the image of Jasper slid into focus behind my eyes. He sat up straight rather suddenly and closed the book he'd been reading. Then he stood up, glanced around, and headed for the door without so much as a look back. Without a sound, without an explanation for where he was going. Without anything. But I knew where he was going. Because at the same time I saw him walk out the door, in the back of my mind, where my own future had been playing itself out simultaneously, everything went blank. He was leaving. Disappearing into the night like a ghost.

No.

I scrambled off the bed, snatching up my purse as I went and fled for the stairs. I launched myself off the loft just as he was reaching the door. "Wait for me." I pleaded.

"Go back to your room, Alice." He said in a deadened voice as he opened the door.

I sprinted to his side. "Not a chance." I breathed. "I told you, I'll go wherever you go, Jasper."

"Alice," He said more firmly. "I don't want you following me."

I bit my lip to keep the pain of his words at bay. "Too bad." I said stubbornly as I grabbed his wrist. "I told you, if you tried to sneak off that I would latch myself onto you."

He broke my grip easily. "I brought you here safely. You get the future with the Cullen's you always saw, isn't that enough?"

"No." I argued. "I want you more."

"You _don't _want me." He hissed. " I could never deserve you. You have opportunities here that I could never give you. People here can relate to you in a way I can't. They can love you in a way I can't."

I blinked. "What are you saying? Wait, are you talking about Edward?" I demanded suddenly. The very thought that I could find Edward more appealing than Jasper was laughable. Yes, the boy was attractive, but I had spent the last forty years thinking of him as my brother. There was no way that relationship could morph into anything else. And aside from that, Jasper was perfect for me in so many ways.

"He, at least, could make you happy." Jasper disputed.

"Ha. No, he couldn't. No one could make me happy but you." I said and my tone raised hysterically against my will. Why was he saying this?

"You _don't_ want me." Jasper all but snarled.

"Do I get a say in all this?" Edward called from the second floor railing. He shook his head playfully. "I mean, it is my future too, isn't it, Jasper? Or are you supposed to decide that for me as well as Alice?"

A low growl issued from Jasper's throat. "Have your say, it wont change anything."

"Well," Edward said, leaning casually against the rail with his arms crossed. "I don't want her either." He said disdainfully.

His tone, his dismissal, should have outraged me. It should have shook me to the very core. It should have made me wonder if I was somehow repulsive. But I really couldn't care less. The only person I wanted to want me was Jasper. Edward's opinion didn't matter in the slightest.

An angry snarl ripped from Jasper's chest. "I didn't say I didn't want her." He seethed and anger rolled off him in waves. Fury, even.

I was angry, despite my own rational thoughts. My body felt angry, my breath came heavily and I was gritting my teeth and tensing my muscles, my lips curled into a snarl. But I had no reason to be angry, my rational mind told me. There was absolutely no reason for it in the world. I should be singing. I should be jumping up and down ecstatic and kissing every inch of Jasper that I could reach. Sure, it wasn't as good as an admission that he wanted me, but he didn't _not_ want me. At the moment the two seemed synonymous.

"Jasper, calm down." I said through gritted teeth.

Edward was crouched again, ready to lunge. He laughed a little haughtily. I saw the ghost image a split second before it happened; saw that they were about to launch themselves at each other, tearing at each other's flesh. And for what? Over nothing. I started moving before either of them had even budged, arriving in my preferred destination the same moment they both lunged.

I held out my hands in either direction and tried to make them as immovable as possible, despite my small size. Edward bounced off my outstretched palm, crashing loudly to the ground. But Jasper was far more experienced when it came to dealing with assailants. He brushed my arm out of the way, and forcefully shoved me backwards, a gash opening in my arm as he passed. He'd bitten me. I gasped involuntarily.

The pain . . .

I was at a loss to describe it. I had never felt anything like it before in my existence. It was as if as though my entire arm had been plunged into a wood stove; a furnace; a crematorium. As if as though a thousand bears had suddenly discovered the way to penetrate my skin and were all gnawing on my arm at once. But, of course, I didn't know how that felt. I could only imagine. And even my imaginings fell woefully short. My life had been relatively pain free up to this point. There was nothing for me to compare this to.

The blinding rage blanketing the room slipped away abruptly as Jasper froze less than a foot from where Edward had landed. He looked over his shoulder at me, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Then he abandoned his quarry and rushed to me.

"Alice," He breathed tortuously as he grabbed my arm to examine it. His gentle touch did nothing to sooth the acidic burning in my skin. Directly in the middle of my forearm was a double crescent-shaped lesion. "Oh God. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Alice. Do you see now? I can't be around people."

"I'll call it a love bite." I said with a measly attempt at humor through clenched teeth.

"Alice." He snapped in frustration, closing his hand over the wound. "I'm not fit to be around people."

"And I'm not fit to be around anyone but you." I argued. "And if you think I wont follow you if you leave, you haven't learned anything about me."

"I didn't know you could do that, Jasper." Edward said from where he'd landed, watching Jasper's every movement cautiously.

Jasper ignored him and instead a new emotion tinged the air around them. The worst, most horrid, extreme of guilt I could imagine. It saturated every pore of the room, drowned every living molecule in it's too potent agony. It was crushing.

"Jasper." I gasped. "Jasper, I'm okay. I'm fine. I'll be fine." I said. Already the pain was beginning to fade a little. It would go away eventually. I would have a scar, it wasn't really that big of a deal. Obviously, I would survive, Jasper's ravaged body was a shining testament to this fact. His head was bowed, forehead to mine, completely lost in his own personal hell that he was sharing with the rest of us.

Edward's hands clutched to his temples. "Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop." He chanted. The guilt was worse than the anger, worse than the pain in my arm. I wondered how much more potent this was for Edward, who not only had to feel Jasper's emotions, but listen to his thoughts as well.

Then Carlisle was there, a comforting hand on Jasper's shoulder. "Son, it's alright." He said soothingly through the pained expression on his face. Carlisle grabbed my arm and gave it little more than a cursory glance. "She'll be fine. She'll be alright."

Esme arrived, pulling Jasper into a hug before leading him to the couch. He moved with them like a zombie, eyes shut, blinded by his own emotions. I doubted he was even aware of where he was. He crumpled onto the couch, burying his head in his hands as Esme and Carlisle sat on either side of him trying to comfort him.

Somehow, despite the guilt that felt like it was crushing me into the ground, I was able to feel pity for him. That he should have to deal with this epic magnitude of emotion was almost unbearable. That he should have such a haunted past when he felt emotions so much more clearly was criminal.

A savage snarl erupted from his chest as the blinding, enraging fury returned. It hit me like a physical force, staggering me back a step. "Don't you _dare_ feel pity for me." He spat, a maddened look in his eyes.

He was completely out of control.

Steeling myself for anything, for the worst, for the distinct possibility that he might bite me again, that he might manage to decapitate me as I had done to the newborn, I dove into his lap. His hands clamped onto my shoulders like vice grips. I ignored the pain as best as I could and took his face in my hands.

"Jasper. Jazz. Please," I pleaded as I kissed his face. "Get a hold of yourself. Please. Control yourself. This is hurting us too."

The mood vacillated back to the suffocating guilt.

"Jasper, calm down." I ordered.

He took a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut, but the guilt, somehow, seemed to intensify. Then he was panting, deep breath after deep breath cutting out of him like sobs and the feeling lessened ever so slowly. It eventually became bearable. Still torturous, but infinitely more bearable than the weight it had been.

He opened his eyes, stared hard at my face for a full second before suddenly pushing me off his lap. I was so startled by his expression, the dead, emptiness in his eyes, that I didn't react. I fell unceremoniously to the floor as he rose and stormed out of the house. Another full second passed as no one moved, then I was scrambling onto my feet.

"Let him go." Carlisle said softly as he pulled me back.

Wild panic rose up inside me. Let him go? _Let him go?_ Impossible. Beyond impossible. It was simply not doable. I couldn't let him go. No physical way on Earth could I let him go. Especially not now that he was hurting so badly. No. No no no no no no no. They didn't understand. Carlisle didn't understand that if I lost Jasper, I lost myself. There was no me without Jasper. He was the _core of my existence. _

"I can't." I choked out, pulling out of Carlisle's grip and stumbling to the door.

Edward was restraining me next. "Alice, he's going to come back. I promise, he's going to come back. He needs to sort himself out first. He's going to come back." He promised as he pulled me back to the couch to occupy Jasper's recently vacated seat.

"You promise?" I begged through numb lips.

"I promise."

I sank into the cushions and took a deep, shuddering breath. Silence fell as we all tried to reconcile ourselves with our own emotions, rather than the clanging remnants of Jasper's rage and agony.

"Did you know . . . that he could do that?" Carlisle asked eventually. He sounded a little weakened.

I shook my head. "I knew. But I didn't _know_. He'd only ever used calm moods on me before. I had no idea the degree, how potent, it could be." I muttered. I hadn't really believe him when he'd told me he could turn me into a raging force of nature.

"You didn't tell us. Last night, while we were getting to know each other, you didn't tell us." Esme panted.

"He doesn't like people knowing about other people's gifts." I had noticed this when we'd met up with Peter and Charlotte. He'd been annoyed that I had revealed my ability to them. And I knew why. He didn't like giving up the tactical advantage of surprise. From a military point of view - from Jasper's point of view - where anyone could be an enemy, it was best to have a little something extra tucked up your sleeve that your opponent didn't know about.

"So he's empathic." Carlisle began again. "And he can -"

Edward cut him off. "He can feel each of our emotions and he can override them with his own if he so wishes. I got a good look at . . . his head, his mind there." He said, then flicked his gaze toward me cautiously. "I don't think he should stay. He's dangerous."

I opened my mouth to protest but Carlisle beat me to the punch. "No, he needs our help, not for us to cringe away from him."

"You didn't see what I saw." Edward said firmly, pressingly.

Outrage rose up in me. How could Edward say these things? How could my brother, the first of my siblings to really make me love them, do this to me? Didn't he know, _of course he knew_, that by banishing Jasper, he was banishing me. Didn't he know that by banishing me, he was condemning me to an eternity of misery? Didn't he know these things? Of course he knew. Of course he did. He was listening right now, the eavesdropping bastard.

"Alice, how many vampires do you think he's killed?" Edward demanded angrily. "Or innocent humans for that matter? Do you have any idea? Gah, I can't get the images out of my head. I can't stop seeing all the children. And he tried to kill me, or did you forget that part?"

I shook my head in denial. There had never been any danger. I had been there to stop it from happening. I was able to circumvent events that might happen. I was able to change them, to change the future. Edward had never been in any danger. My only thoughts now bent to my tortured true love who was out dealing with his excessive emotions right now. Alone.

Edward snarled and shook his head angrily. "You're not omniscient, Alice! You wont be able to stop him every time he snaps. He's a danger to you and to the rest of us. Especially to you. Look at your arm. Do you have any idea how much worse it could have been?"

My eyes traveled slowly, unwilling, to my arms, where they sat limply in my lap. Dead center on my right forearm there were two crystal white, jagged semi-circles etched into my granite skin. It seemed so impossible that, after forty years, nothing had been able to mark me, until now. Until Jasper.

But I couldn't fear him. Edward's threats and warnings fell on deaf ears because death was ultimately preferable to a life where I wasn't with Jasper. I had been scarcely able, barely managing to hold on, to persevere, for the forty some years that it had taken me to find him only because I had hope of finding him. Only because I dreamed of his face so often. Only because I knew he was the one for me and that he was out there, just waiting for me to find him. I couldn't leave him now or let him go. I didn't have the strength to do so even if I'd wanted to. Leave Jasper. Ha. Really, the thought was laughable.

Edward turned away with a frustrated, "Bah!" And stormed into the basement.

We sat. I was numb. Esme pulled me into a tight, comforting embrace. A motherly embrace. I didn't remember my mother. I didn't remember anything of being human, but somehow I knew this was what it would have felt like if I could remember my mother. She would have tenderly held me and let me cry on her shoulder while she assured me it was going to be alright, just like Esme was doing now. But I couldn't remember her. There was no face, no voice in my memory, to associate with this interaction. I knew I was misjudging, I was being irrational, but Esme, suddenly, _was_ my mother. She wasn't acting as a replacement mother, there was no one to replace. It wasn't just Esme and her too large heart taking in another surrogate child. She was my mother. _Is_ my mother.

I collapsed into her embrace, allowed myself to be comforted. It was so strange. So many years alone with only my thoughts and memories to draw comfort from had not prepared me for this. Even Jasper's subtle sympathies had paled in comparison to this. It was as though Esme physically took my pain, my fears, and my worries into herself so I could examine them, poke them, prod them a little, but not have to bear them. She rocked me softly, dry sobs wracking through me. I wished again, had never wished more so in my life, that I was really able to cry. Because these sobs, the most extreme physical manifestation of distress my lifeless body was able to produce, did nothing to convey the magnitude of my fears and pain.

Would Jasper come back? Edward had said so, but Edward didn't want him to come back. Would Edward have lied to me? Would he have deceived me to keep me from going after my one, my only, true love? Would he have? Should I be waiting here, crying in Esme's arms if, even now, Jasper could be fleeing further and further away from me? I should leave now, while his trail was still fresh, and try to catch up to him. But Edward had _promised_. He'd promised explicitly that Jasper would come back and Edward was a good and honest person. Every vision I'd ever had of him, every word he'd spoken to me had exuded goodness and truth. I had to trust him. And I could still see my future, however faintly, through my distressed emotions. I put my faith in Edward, that he wouldn't destroy me this way, as my sobs began to lessen.

Sobbing, this utter release of emotion, was something I'd never tried before. It was oddly tiring. I was drained. It made my head hurt a little and my breath come in unsteady, almost painful gasps as I began to calm down. Edward had promised that Jasper would come back. He would come back.

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A/N: Sorry if this seems to cut off abrubtly, but despite my efforts to upload this story how it was written, I had to cut this chapter in half, otherwise it would have been like 20 pages long and go right to the end of the story. I hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to review. ^^


	7. Chapter 7

Hello again. Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. I appreciate them.

Now, before we go any further, I want to give you all a warning: this chapter has a very disturbing part to it. I was disturbed while I wrote it, but I think it was well done. I wanted to show you all just what being a vampire is and the horrors of one of our favorite character's past. I hope you enjoy the chapter and I hope you don't think I'm sick in the head after this. (lol, I'm actually a little serious.)

~Allora

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I sat with Carlisle and Esme, my mother's arms wrapped around my shoulders as my head rested on her chest. Carlisle rubbed my knee soothingly and assured and reassured me that there would be room here for both me and Jasper for so long as we wanted to occupy it. It was hours later, the sun had fully risen, reached it's zenith and was beginning to set when a change finally occurred.

Carlisle sat up a little straighter then got to his feet. I heard why a second later; the light, tentative footsteps that were apprehensively approaching the house. Jasper's footsteps, I knew instinctively, though they held none of the seductive forcefulness they usually did. Carlisle went to the door and opened it.

"Come on in, Jasper." He said calmly; welcomingly.

The footsteps paused, then acquiesced. He walked around the couch then stood stock still, like a statue, the way he did when he was tense and fearing an attack. His gaze flicked once to me then away. I sat up straighter, suddenly it seemed so silly for me to have been sobbing at all. What were my feeble fears compared to what Jasper had just been through? Compared to the sheer effort this careful facade of control had to be on him. Already, I could see the cracks beginning to form in his mask of control. His hands balled into fists at his side.

"Nobody blames you, son." Carlisle said softly as he settled on the couch next to me again. He gestured for Jasper to sit on the opposing couch.

Edward made a sound from the basement that made it sound like he very much did blame Jasper. I quickly squashed my irritation at my brother before it could impact Jasper, I hoped.

Jasper shook his head stiffly. "I apologize, profusely, Carlisle, Esme. It was monstrous of me to attack your family after you opened your home to me. Absolutely inexcusable. Edward, since I know you're listening, I am sorry. As you've all, no doubt, guessed by now, I am an empath. I'm sorry for what you all had to experience. It was a shameful, unforgivable lapse of control on my part. I'm just here to say goodbye to Alice, and then I'll be gone."

"Now, Jasper, that isn't necessary." Carlisle began.

"Goodbye?" I asked dumbfounded. It was a joke. Ha. He couldn't leave me. But my mind flitted back and reminded me, cruelly, that he had already been leaving when all this had started. That he had been trying to slip away in the middle of the night without so much as another word. I scrambled out of Esme's arms and into his. "No."

"Alice, look at what I did to you." He said firmly, gently twisting my arm so the scar was facing upward. It was completely healed, completely painless by now. Just lighter white crescents against my already pale skin. "I can't be around people if this is how I'm going to act."

I shrugged it off. "We match now."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "No." He said vehemently, shaking me slightly. "No. You have _no idea_-"

_"_Jasper, we want you to stay with us." Esme said suddenly, cutting him off.

He froze, mouth dropping open a little in surprise. I felt an unending, infinite rush of gratitude for the woman I now considered my mother. Anyone else would have caused doubt. Anyone else he would have been able to discredit as an attempt as civility. But Esme loved Edward as a son. Her love for Edward was clearly visible in so many ways. It rivaled her love for Carlisle. Her love for all her children was absolute. And _she_ wanted the man who had tried to kill her son to stay with them.

"Please, Jasper. I'll follow you anyway." I pleaded, my hands unconsciously clutching his shirt like my life depended on it.

"Why?" Jasper demanded, but he was looking over my head to Carlisle and Esme. I pulled myself into a tight hug against his chest. I could hear his deep, unsteady breaths against my ear. His arms distractedly folded around me. He wasn't paying any attention to me, but I liked his instinctive reaction. I felt safe in his arms. I felt like I belonged here.

"Jasper, you need help. You _want_ to be able to be around people. You're not going to get any good at that on your own, son." Carlisle said. "And it would make Alice miserable if you left."

"I'd go with him." I said firmly. Jasper absently stroked my hair. My eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch and I breathed in his scent.

"You'd still be miserable, wouldn't you?" Carlisle asked perceptively.

"Yes." I affirmed.

"That settles it then, Jasper Whitlock Cullen." Esme said in a very businesslike tone. "Welcome to the family, love."

"No." Jasper argued. "I don't want . . . No one should have to suffer like that again because of me."

"_You_ suffer like that." Carlisle said calmly.

"Yes, but that's me. It shouldn't _ever _be inflicted on anyone else like that. It's unacceptable. And I can't guarantee that it wont happen again. Control is an issue." Jasper said, shaking his head vehemently.

"You shouldn't suffer alone. And we all have issues with control sometimes." Carlisle said firmly.

Jasper shook his head, suddenly releasing me. He stormed back out the door, fleeing. I glanced at my family, at Carlisle and Esme, and smiled sadly before following him out. I didn't know if we'd be coming back. I didn't know if I'd hug Esme again. I didn't know if Carlisle would ever reassure me again. I didn't know if I would ever have another half conversation with Edward. I didn't know if I would ever get to know Rosalie and Emmet better. But none of that mattered because Jasper was infinitely more important.

I sprinted after him. He'd already disappeared into the trees but his scent was easy to follow. It called to me. He was faster than me, but I was determined to eventually catch up. Even if it took me days. I darted through the trees, leaping over dead fall, dancing over low lying branches, as I rigorously followed his scent.

Eventually he began to slow. I could hear him now, distantly ahead of me, but the gap was closing. I spurred myself faster, burst through the underbrush into a clearing and froze. He was standing, his back to me, hands in his pockets, only a hundred feet away. I paused. I didn't want to intrude on his alone time.

He glared at me. "Go away, Alice."

I took a wide step back. I wouldn't crowd him, but I wasn't about to let him disappear. I bowed my head and waited. I tried to force a vision, tried to see what Jasper was going to do, but all I could see was him standing in the meadow. He hadn't made a decision yet.

"What are you doing?" He asked, a light wave of frustration floated my way.

"Giving you some space." I muttered.

He rolled his eyes at me, "You're going to have to go further than that, then." He said coldly.

"I'm not leaving you, Jasper."

"I wish that you would."

I winced at his words but held my ground. "You don't have to be alone." I said. I wasn't going to budge. "I think you're over due for a bit of happiness, you know?"

He laughed derisively. "There is no happiness for one such as myself. I do not deserve it."

"Jasp-"

"You don't know me at all, Alice. You know nothing about me. You don't know what I've done." He snapped.

"You're right." I conceded as I crossed the meadow to him. "I don't know what you've done. I don't know at all, I absolutely cannot comprehend, the past you had. Whatever unforgivable crimes you commit are completely beyond my reckoning. But I _do_ know you, Jasper. And I know we belong together; I've known for every day of my existence."

"Even you admit that there were days you didn't see us together." He countered.

"Yes. Those days highlighted all to clearly that I would die without you."

He flinched. "Don't say that." A ripple of anger shivered off of him.

I smiled and kissed him lightly. He resisted. "Come on, Jasper. Hit me with your best shot. Let me in. Let me feel what your feeling. Let me see the whole gory mess of it." I challenged. It was the quickest, most binding, most lasting way I could think to make him mine. If I could endure, if I could withstand his emotional release, then he couldn't say I didn't understand what he was going through. Then he couldn't claim I didn't know him. I would know him, even the darkest, most horrifying parts of him. Then, he would have no excuse to resist me. Then he would be mine.

His eyes narrowed and he stared at me for a long moment. I could see the emotions playing in his eyes. His vindictive need to prove me wrong was warring with his dislike of showing weakness. Vindictiveness won in the end.

He growled and I was hit by an unseen force of emotion. Hit like a truck. Hit like a tank. Hit like a brick wall. His anger had staggered me before, but this force, this _emotion_, crumpled me. I managed to make it two steps away before my legs gave out on me. Emotion was the only way I could think to describe it. I didn't even know what I was feeling. I wasn't experienced enough to differentiate all the subtle different flavors between all the different types of shrieking agony I was experiencing. This was a hundred, no, a thousand, a hundred thousand times worse than his episode at the house.

This was . . .

Thoughts escaped me and I felt my body writhe uncontrollably on the ground. It felt like he was pushing experiences into me. Horrifying, anguishing experiences. I squeezed my eyes shut and saw stars, then a face. A very pretty face. It was the face of a girl, no older than fifteen, with beautiful, swinging golden ringlets under her wide rimmed hat. Her eyes were a starling shade of blue, the perfect shade of blue, like summer sky on a cloudless day. _That_ shade of blue.

The experience grew, my focus widened, and I could see the girl was hurrying down a side street at dusk. Such a silly thing for the girl to be doing. In her slight, delicate hands was a package from the pharmacy. It looked like medicine or baby formula, something of the sort. Ah, the girl was hurrying home to a sick relative? To her anxious mother with the baby formula for her younger brother or sister or niece?

Her shoes clicked rhythmically on the street, scuffing against loose stones. She was coming closer, her long, tan skirt swishing with her hurried movements. Was it imperative that she got home or did she merely not like the look of the darkened street?

She caught sight of me then, pausing in her tracks before smiling tentatively. A low blush colored her fair cheeks, luscious blood pooling under her translucent skin. My eyes flicked to her throat, to the pretty, simply golden chain that hung there over her racing pulse. The rush of the blood was audible, heart pounding like a runaway horse. Enticing.

She continued on her way. Silly girl. She turned her head shyly away from me as she passed, uncomfortable by my scrutiny, exposing the delectable stretch of flesh below her ear before it disappeared under her collar. Silly, silly girl. The venom was already pooling in my mouth, my throat burned scorchingly. Her fate was already decided. Her number was up.

I pushed away from the wall I had been resting against to pursue her. I would make it quick, but not here. Not in front of these shabby houses' dimly lit windows. No, somewhere more private. Somewhere no one would be able to see the real me.

I tried to argue with myself. This was _wrong_. This was not what Carlisle had taught me. This was something horrible. This was in the past, a different era from the one where I sat suffering in a clearing with Jasper Whitlock. It wasn't real. It didn't stop me from following her.

Rising loathing and guilt ripped through me. She was just a girl, for Pete's sake! Just a silly girl who hadn't known to run when she'd had the chance. Surely she deserved some mercy. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, that was all. But her scent was in my mind, like rose petals, and her heart was beating furiously in her chest, warming her blood. She knew I was following, she could sense it.

The girl walked more quickly, breaking into a jog sometimes, winding around corners breathlessly. Her perfect golden curls bounced down her back, across her shoulders, wafting her scent back my way. Too appealing.

Then she suddenly turned into a house. It was bigger than most of the others around it. Nicer. She swung the door quickly shut behind her and I heard the lock turn in the door. Silly girl. I could have splintered the door off it's hinges, no matter how thick it may have been. I didn't. I waited, patiently, on the roof of the house across the street and listened, intent on the hunt. I heard her heart begin to gradually slow, falsely comforted by the thought that she was safe in her home. She wasn't. "Silly, Lena." She murmured to herself. There was the swish of fabrics. The removal of her coat? Even, steady, pattering footfalls up the stairs onto the second floor.

A light turned on.

A target.

I leaped, my body moving lithely, bat-like, through the darkening evening onto the roof of the silly girl's house. In seconds, I had slid through her unlocked window. She hadn't heard me, but she'd felt the shift in air pressure and turned. Terror lit up her beautiful face, eyes wide, the blood drained from her face. So silly how their blood could do such things depending on their mood. Somewhat fascinating really; a blush to a blanch.

She got the first, strangled syllable of a scream out before I was on her, hand over her mouth, teeth to her neck. A careless mistake. My sharpened teeth sank easily into her neck, sank easily through fat and muscle and tendon as her blood overwhelmed my senses. _Real_ blood. The blood we were supposed to live off of.

I shuddered, throat burning. But that didn't make sense, I was drinking blood. There was no reason to feel thirsty now. In a very distant, compartmentalized part of my mind, I felt the hard, snow-covered ground beneath me. A glimmer of understanding before I was drawn back into the girl.

The door opened behind me, another heartbeat, heavier. Another careless mistake. I fought the instinct to face my intruder. It was a human and I was almost done with the girl. I would deal with the intruder next.

Her life slipped away before her blood did. Pale, perfect, sky blue eyes stared at me unseeingly out of the abyss as I finished. Death was supposed to be peaceful. The girl's corpse looked terrified. I dropped the body at the same time I became aware that something was hitting me. Hitting was too strong of a term, brushing lightly against my back.

I turned to find a man pummeling me with a fragile looking chair. He was a wide man, porcine with a beet red, sweaty face and balding head. The chair came down to crash against me again and splintered as I lunged at him, sinking my teeth into his flabby, salty neck.

More blood.

More screaming.

No, not so much a scream as a choked gasp from the hall.

More heartbeats.

More careless mistakes.

The fat mans blood rushed into my mouth, satiating my thirst. His high blood pressure and frantically beating heart forcing his blood out of the wound. He fell with a muted thud on the thick carpeted floor as I crept out into the hallway. At the end of the hall a tall, elegant looking woman was planted firmly against a door, hands fixed on either side of the frame to barricade my entrance.

I paused for a moment, just long enough to listen. Only two more. Two more heartbeats. Two more careless mistakes and I could be gone.

I wasn't a sadist. I didn't like their fear and suffering. Right now the fear was so thick in the air it was a discernible taste. Bitter and cold. So I didn't draw out her suffering. She couldn't live, despite her murmured pleading. No one could know about this. There could be no witnesses.

Hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, I bit again. I was so full of blood I was nearly blind - intoxicated by it - but unable to stop. No, I couldn't stop. Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't stop. This release, no, this _indulgence_. It had been far too long. Far far too long since I had made myself full. Since I had made myself completely satiated.

The woman clutched against my wrist, tried to push my mouth away, tried to kick me. Impossible tasks. Then she too crumpled, dead, on the floor in the threshold of a thin, white door. One more heartbeat. One more careless mistake.

The room gave me pause. The walls were painted in pastel blues and there was a light, powdery scent in the air. A happy scent. And in the center of the room there was a small crib. A nursery. Part of me recoiled. Part of me was shouting at myself to stop. But that part wasn't very loud or forceful.

The baby was sleeping in the crib. It had that smell, that indescribably innocent baby smell. Dumpling cheeks flushed in sleep while pudgy little fingers grasped the hem of it's blanket. So sweet. So innocent. So . . . savory. A delicacy for the most heinous of all monsters.

He began crying when my teeth broke the skin, pudgy fingers patting frustratedly at my face. Featherlight tickles. Then those too stopped and the house was finally, blissfully, silent.

I piled the bodies together in the girls room, seated them all on a small settee in the room. The perfect, macabre parody of the perfect American family. I began to notice small similarities. The girl had her father's nose, but got her eyes from her mother. The baby boy had inherited his mother's pointed, impish chin.

God.

What kind of monster could do such a thing? What kind of monster . . . The thought was unbearable. An entire family destroyed. Four lives extinguished simply by a series of careless mistakes. Careless, irresponsible mistakes. What kind of monster could do such a thing?

But I knew what kind of monster it was.

I knew.

I had seen it before.

It had been Alice that had stalked the poor girl to her family home. It had been Alice who had drained each of her family members of life in turn. Alice. Mary Alice Brandon. It was Mary Alice Brandon who had later burned the house to the ground to hide the evidence.

Mary Alice Brandon.

It had been _me_.

I hadn't been able to fully lament the horror and tragedy of the incident then, back in 1914 when I'd first tasted human blood. My body simply wasn't able to produce the sufficient levels of agony and remorse and self-loathing needed to devote to the situation. Not then. Not until Jasper. Jasper had opened up whole new universes of pain for me to discover.

It felt like every good thing I had, every good memory, every good thought, every good inclination, was being mercilessly ripped my from being, leaving me with only the worst, darkest, most hellish memories, thoughts and gestures. I had to go. I had to get away from here. I couldn't bear it.

I managed to gain enough consciousness to scramble another half dozen feet back to the trees before collapsing again. The brick wall of emotion was pulsing, knocking me down, sapping my strength. Agony wasn't a strong enough word. Hate not a deep enough self-loathing. Even the ninth circle of hell could not be worse than this.

Then I caught sight of Jasper.

He was crumpled, head in his hand, on his knees, rocking back and forth. Hugging himself. Dry, miserable sobs choking from his mouth. His eyes were squeezed shut, trapping him in his personal hell. I'd never seen anyone look more broken in my life.

My heartbreak seemed a very small and insignificant feeling compared to the towering, monstrous things Jasper was sharing with me. But it was enough.

I crawled over to where he sat and pulled him into my arms. He pulled me into his lap and hugged me so hard it was crushingly painful as he buried his head in my hair. I tried to sooth him. It was difficult. There was nothing good left in me. No gentle instincts. All I knew was that he was hurting, and I forced my mind to act rationally, to detach itself from my body, and hug him. I whispered reassurances to him, kissed his head, his neck, his cheeks. Squeezed him. Massaged him. Told him I loved him.

It was difficult with the running commentary of all my blackest moments playing behind my eyes. God, how many humans had I killed? I didn't think it had been this many. Too many. Too many days when I hadn't been able to see Jasper. Days when I needed that little bit of extra comfort. Abominable. It wasn't even comforting. The guilt afterwards had always been agony. Ha, agony used to be such a powerful term. A skinned knee or a pinched finger compared to Jasper.

My poor, sweet, sensitive Jasper.

It seemed like hours. No, it was hours, it seemed like centuries, later that the anguish began to lessen. Lessen in very small, minute, gradual degrees. They would have been almost imperceptible to a human mind, but not to my mind. It lessened one tick worth of torture every ten breaths Jasper took, like he was practicing an exercise for control.

I began kissing him again, once for every ounce of control he gained. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Tick. Kiss. I think I hoped he would regain control faster with the added incentive. He didn't. He continued as he had been, one tick every ten breaths. He did, however, eventually, after a long time, begin kissing me back. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Tick. Kiss. Kiss.

His hand brushed lightly against my cheek as he held my face close to his, lips brushing against mine more often. One. Two. Three. Kiss. Four. Five. Six. Kiss. Seven. Kiss. Eight. Nine. Kiss. Ten. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Tick.

He opened his muddy brown eyes for the first time in hours. I was expecting to see guilt there maybe. Or that horrid lifeless expression he'd had at the house. I wasn't expecting the burning, passionate gaze he was directing my way now, or the scalding new aura of his emotions.

Scalding was an understatement. I felt like I was being burned alive . . . but not in such a bad way. If I'd been human, I would have been blushing furiously. The way he was projecting desire was like shouting an erotic novel at the top of his lungs. And even more embarrassing, I couldn't help the way I was reacting to it. He had completely overridden my logic. I was putty in his hands.

He kissed me roughly, his hands curled into my hair. There was no control, no tenderness in this Jasper. He was lust in it's purest form. His hands clawed at me, crushed me against his chest as he roughly kissed my lips, my face, my neck, and anywhere else my skin was exposed. His lips left burning trails across my skin as I warred with myself.

Yes, this was what I wanted. Of course I wanted Jasper in this way. But did he want this? Really? Did he really want me? Was I sure this wasn't a misguided byproduct of the emotional torture we'd just been through? Was this just a path to comfort for him? A means to try to forget his darkest moments? Did I mind if it was? Could I take advantage of him in that way? What about after? What would happen when he came back under control and realized what he'd done? Would I be strong enough for that? But what if he knew quite clearly what he was doing right now? What if he knew exactly how his every touch was making me feel? How his every embrace was turning me into mush. How I couldn't help the shivers and sighs that escaped. What if he wanted me to feel this way?

He pushed me back, his lips never leaving contact with mine, and I was once against trapped beneath his weight. All thoughts escaped me, all my mute arguments with myself fell silent. "Yes.", was the only thought I was capable of. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes. I would deal with whatever the consequences of this was later. After. At a time when I could plead I was as out of control as he was.

My hand ran through his hair as he continued kissing me maddeningly. I ran my hands over his strong shoulders, his arms, his chest, under his shirt to feel the taut, hardened muscles of his back. I traced my fingers over ancient scars, dug my nails into his skin, hugged him. He responded with enthusiasm and his hands closed into fists around the fabric of my dress at my hips. I heard the seams at my shoulders strain, then rip.

The sound brought him back into himself. He froze, his eyes closed, and sighed loudly.

"I'm sorry." I breathed.

He stood up and moved away, standing with his back to me, wordlessly. It was like we'd returned to square one. He was standing in the same spot he'd been when I'd first discovered him here, with his back to me, brooding.

A little ripple of self-righteous anger shot through me. Why should I have apologized to him? It was hardly my fault that he could make me want him like that. It was hardly my fault that he had made me want him like that. Hardly my fault that he'd started kissing me like he needed me more than blood. No, that wasn't my fault at all. He couldn't keep doing this to me. He couldn't. He knew how I felt. He knew that I wanted him more than anything else. I had conveyed that to him a number of occasions. He couldn't keep toying with me like this. He couldn't keep leading me on.

"Please stop, Alice."

"I'm not doing anything." I snapped irritably. It was true, I was still laying where he'd left me.

"Please, I know you have every right to be angry at me, especially after the way I just attacked you, but can you please try to squash it for a few moments." He pleaded.

Attack? Who had said anything about attack? Well, sure, the earlier part, the ceaseless guilt, the agony of remembrance, that had been unpleasant. But I had nearly forgotten about it in the wake of his kisses. The way his lips had crushed against mine and left burning trails of longing had nearly obliterated those thoughts from my head.

"Alice, please." He said in frustration.

"Sorry." I muttered quickly, before taking a deep breath to clear my thoughts. I tried again to look into the future but it was jumbled. I caught flashes of things, most of which I couldn't recognize. They were gone before I could make sense of them. I did think I saw a glimpse of Charlotte and Peter but I immediately questioned those visions when I saw a flash of what looked like Carlisle's face. It was giving me a headache, kind of dizzying, to try to focus on these jolts of color and action.

I gave up and instead just sat with my legs crossed, head resting on my hands. It was dark again, a fact my eyes scarcely registered. The last two days had been utterly miserable. It was almost funny how bad everything had gone. It was like each misfortune had rolled into the next and into the next creating into a giant snowball of misfortune and anxiety that had stopped here, where we were now, with Jasper's back turned to me.

Oh. I was thinking again. Feeling again. I pushed everything out of my mind and focused on the snow in front of me. I could see each individual snowflake; every minute detail of each flake. It was like staring at Formica counter tops for hours on end. Hours and hours of impatient despair while waiting for my handsome stranger . . . Still thinking. Still feeling. Gah, blank. Blank. Blank. Blank.

Jasper chuckled. I glanced up, he was watching me with a tender look on his face. "I'm sorry, Alice. My behavior has been inexcusable."

"I'll tell you what's inexcusable." I said in frustration as I got to my feet, assuming I was allowed to be angry now. "You kissing me like that and -"

"I know. I'm sorry." He cut me off.

"Let me finish." I argued. "You kissing me like that and then pulling away. Do you have any idea what you do to me, Jasper? Do you have any idea, even the slightest clue, how I feel about you? You can't keep doing this to me. I'm going to combust."

He watched me closely for a long minute before a sad smile crept across his lips. "I'm sorry, but do you have any idea what you do to me? Any idea how I feel about you, Alice?"

"No." I growled. "You've never told me. Even though, since the moment I met you, I have been honest and forthcoming with my feelings for you."

"True." He nodded hesitantly. A long, awkward moment of silence passed between us. "I never said anything because I . . . was a coward. I didn't want you to know just how little I deserved your attentions."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I've already told you, I don't care about your past. I don't care what you've done, Jasper."

"But you should." He insisted.

"Fine, plead your case then. Try to make me care. And when you're done, I will kiss you and tell you that it doesn't matter to me in the slightest." I promised.

"I've killed children." He started with a dark glare.

"So have I." I whispered with a grimace.

He frowned. "I don't think you understand the magnitude of that confession."

Was it so much worse if he'd done it once or a hundred times? It was the same crime, and a crime for which I, myself wasn't blameless. I kissed him softly. "It doesn't matter to me."

"I've killed vampires simply because they were in my way or had outlived their usefulness." He tried again.

"You know I'm not innocent of that crime." I said softly, thinking of the maddened newborn we'd come across. I kissed him again.

He sighed angrily. "I'm going about this the wrong way. Alice, all I know is killing. For almost a century, I have been a machine of war and violence. I thrived on it. When I did well, when I killed enough, I was rewarded."

"I know, Jasper." I whispered, trying to kiss him again.

He stopped my lips and his hand moved ever so gently around my throat. "I could kill you, Alice. You know this right? That it is in my nature to kill." He said softly.

"It's in all of our natures to kill." I pointed out.

"Not to the same degree. You thirst only to kill humans and animals. I strive to kill everything in sight. Just like a damned newborn." He countered.

I smiled. "Give yourself a little credit, Jasper. You haven't tried to kill anyone _today_ and plenty of living organisms have crossed your sight."

He dropped his hand from where it rested at my throat and sighed in annoyance. "It's not funny, Alice."

I rolled my eyes again. He was doing a very miserable job at trying to push me away. I wasn't afraid of him in the slightest. I pushed myself up onto my toes and captured his lips with mine, holding his face close to mine with my hands in his hair. He broke my grip easily and leaned away.

He shook his head in frustration. "I believe we talked about you not making yourself so accommodating, Alice."

"We did. But that was before you tried to run off without me." I answered truthfully. "I will be just as accommodating as I need to be to keep you with me."

He hissed. "I'm trying to be a gentleman with you, Alice."

"Don't -" I began.

"Alice, you don't understand. For a century, my every need has been instantly gratified. Not just blood, Alice." He looked at me significantly.

Oh. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Of course, he'd been alive a lot longer than I had. It was to be expected that there had been others. Others who had loved him in ways that I had not yet accomplished. It hurt a little. It felt like a betrayal, even though the thought was completely ridiculous. He hadn't known me then. He'd been a different person then.

But a little, incessant voice piqued up in my head and reminded me that _I_ had never felt the need to run off and do things with strangers. _I_ had never tried to seduce anyone but him. No. Instead I had sat in stinking diner after diner waiting for him to show up while he was philandering with God knows how many women.

"I _do_ care about you, Alice. As much as I shouldn't, or rather, that you shouldn't care about me, I do. I want to do this right, this time. So please, let me pretend that I'm a gentleman." He whispered and caressed my cheek.

His tenderness wiped my malcontent thoughts from my mind. My gentleman. I sighed, the beginnings of a smile fighting it's way onto my lips. "And you wont try to leave me again? You wont try to sneak off in the middle of the night without me ever again?" I asked. _If_ he could agree to that, then I would let him be a gentleman. Otherwise, I would do everything in my power to bind him to me as permanently as I could manage.

"I am incapable of leaving you now. I tried yesterday evening and was made to come back. I couldn't go more than a foot without my thoughts straying to you. I thought if I tried to say goodbye first it would be more manageable. It wasn't. Thoughts of you stopped me here." He explained softly. "I'll go where you go."

I choked back a sob. Now wasn't a time for crying at his touching words. Now was a time to be dancing ecstatically, singing, shouting, kissing. He _wanted_ me. He loved me, though he still hadn't said so. "Then let's go home."

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A/N: :D So I hope you got to this part. If not, I'm very sorry to the people who had to turn it off.

So there's one more chapter left; the epilogue, and then this story will be complete.

Please remember to review. And if you hated it, let me know that too, just do it as nicely as you can. lol.

Thank you for reading.

~ Allora


	8. Chapter 8 Epilogue

"Alice." Jasper said softly, drawing my attention away from my magazine. I glanced at him and smiled. "I want you to do me a favor, darling."

I raised an eyebrow seductively at him. "Whatever you need, Jasper." I purred.

He shook his head and knelt next to me on the couch. "Alice," He said seriously as he caressed my cheek. "If I ask you to do something, will you promise to do it?"

Panic rose up in me. What could this be about? Jasper was _never_ this cryptic with me. What was wrong? What could he want me to promise? What if he wanted me to promise not to follow him? What if he was leaving? The last five years together had been bliss – for me at least. We never fought. Never argued. He put up with my eccentricities with an enduring smile. Or had he endured enough?

Reigning my startled thoughts, I chided myself. He hadn't said he was leaving. I'd simply jumped to that conclusion because it was my worst fear. Anything other than that, I would promise him. "So long as it's not to let you go."

"Never that." He said quickly and kissed my hand softly.

"Then yes."

A devious smiled crept upon his lips. "Then, Alice, today, I don't want you to look into your future. Or mine. No, I want you to focus very hard on . . ." He glanced down at my magazine. "his future." He finished, pointing to a pin up of Elvis.

I chuckled to hide my confusion. I had promised to do what he asked, so long as it wasn't to let him go. I glanced down at the picture with a frown. Elvis probably wasn't going to be very exciting. He wasn't my favorite, despite trying to take an interest in popular music.

"Okay." I agreed.

He kissed my hand again before standing up and walking straight out the door without so much as a look back. Right then, before he had crossed the threshold, I was already tempted to cheat. What if he _was_ leaving? What if this was a clever diversion to keep me from pursuit until he could lose his trail in the ocean?

But I had promised.

A deep frown creased my features as I blinded myself from my future and Jasper's and looked down at the photo in front of me. Elvis. I focused on the man with all my ability and was rewarded with a running commentary of mundane human choices.

What would he eat for diner? What clothes should he wear the next day? Should he request some company for the night? Should he try to see how many girls would kiss him in the next twenty four hours? How many father's he could enrage? No, bad idea. Should he talk to his manager about his financial assets? Should he go the long way back to his house so he could drive past the bar he'd first played in?

It was so boring. I didn't even like Elvis. Sure, he had flare and a certain disregard for societal norms, but I couldn't listen to the scratchy gargling that came out of Edward's record player. Maybe if I witnessed him sing in person? I had tried on a number of occasions to come t terms with today's music. Edward had sat patiently and listened to my thoughts recoil as soon as the record player began the songs he wanted to show me. It reminded me far too much of all those diners I'd sat in.

Ah, Elvis had decided _not_ to detour on his way home. How life altering!

It was just after dark when Jasper finally returned. I was still laying, sprawled across the sofa with the magazine, though I had taken to doodling on Elvis' picture. Ha. He now had a twisted mustache like an evil cartoon villain and a beard as thick as Santa Clause's. I tossed the magazine to the floor when he entered, relief flooding me. He hadn't left. He wasn't unhappy with us. In fact, he looked rather pleased.

"Will you come with me?" He asked gently as he offered his hand to me. "And keep thinking about whoever that was. No peeking." He chided.

"Elvis." I grumbled as I took his hand. "You would think that being a famous musician would make his life more interesting."

He smiled at me, his arm draping around my shoulders as he brushed a kiss against the crown of my head. I grinned. _This_ was good. Ever since I'd finally convinced him to stay, since I'd let him play the gentleman, he'd shied away from signs of affection like this. He hadn't kissed more than my hand since that day and had kept an annoyingly large distance between us at all times.

At first, I had been worried he was using it as an excuse to not be with me. I was afraid that he didn't really care for me. But two years ago, Rosalie had confronted me, hoping to make me seduce him. Jasper had been unintentionally projecting lust and desire into her and Emmet's room. She'd given me an ultimatum. Either I went in there and relieved him, or she would.

I wanted to kill her then and even more so later when she realized I wasn't going to act. I was going to honor his wishes because it was the only thing he'd asked of me. I had been worried; Rosalie presented him a tempting offer. Physical release without emotional attachment. Emmet had agreed with Rose, he just wanted her to "end the poor guy's suffering".

My worries had been unfounded though. Jasper had been furious with Rosalie and had thrown her bodily from the room and had professed that _gentlemen_ didn't condone those kinds of actions. They didn't speak to each other for almost a year after that.

It made me smile, and now my gentleman seemed to have finally broken through the first wall of his gentlemanly charade. I'd missed this comfortable closeness more than I could have imagined possible. It reminded me of our journey to find the Cullen's, when it was just Jasper and I alone together.

He led me at a gentle jog through the forest that surrounded the house. It was nice out, the summer breeze rustling through the trees. I heard birds and crickets going about their business in the woods around us pause when they sensed us pass, leaving a wake of silence behind us. The quiet forest was soothing; comforting.

It wasn't long before I realized where we were headed. He was taking us down the same path I had fervently chased him five years previous. Toward the clearing where I had been tortured by the guilt he'd made me feel. The same clearing where he'd begged me to let him be a gentleman.

He slowed before we broke into the clearing and took my hand gently in his. He gave me a sidelong glance and smiled at me, that same devious, mischievous smiled he'd used on me earlier. I liked it on him, it helped me convince myself he was happy here, with the life I'd chosen for us.

He took a deep, unneeded breath before pulling me into the clearing with him. My knees almost gave out when I saw what was in store for me. Of course, it shouldn't have surprised me this much. Jasper had taken me on romantic evenings before. We had gone dancing, to cinemas, on moonlit walks on the beach. But _this_.

I had seen it before.

The clearing was littered with hundreds of glowing candles, flickering their light across the evening grass. In the center of the clearing was a simple picnicking blanket spread across the ground. It was summer, there were wildflowers wafting their scent around. Next to the blanket was a small record playing emitting warbling trills of classical music. I recognized a piano through all the distortion and wondered if Edward had played any hand in this.

But that wasn't really important right now. What _was_ important was what this meant.

"You peeked." He murmured with a discontented sigh.

I shook my head vigorously. "No. But I've seen this clearing like this before. Years ago. . . The first day I met you."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "What else did you see?"

I grinned at him. "You love me." I said. It came out a little breathlessly.

"Is that all?" He asked as he tugged my hand and led me to the blanket. He sat me down on the blanket and knelt in front of me. "Yes, Alice, I love you."

In five years, he had never once said it to me. In five years he had never once said those three little words that could shake the very foundations of my world. We sat in silence for an entire second while my mind processed what he'd just said to me.

A giddy laugh erupted from my lips. "I love you, Jasper!" I cried.

He smiled contently and settled down beside me, one arm wrapped around my waist, he rested his cheek on the top of my head. I wrapped both my hands around his free hand and rubbed my thumb over the back of it.

We sat, utterly content with each other's company for hours as the sky continued to darken and the stars rose. Then he tilted my face towards his and spoke.

"Alice, when you found me that day, in that diner, I was more dead than alive. And I mean that in more than the obvious ways. I was lost. I was utterly discontent with life. I found myself picking fights simply hoping that I'd eventually find someone capable of ending my suffering. Thankfully, I never did find someone capable." He began, his voice hushed.

"When I saw you in that diner, you must have noticed that my first reactions were fight or flight." I nodded. "But when I _felt_ you, when I felt the emotions you were experiencing, it was like you'd breathed new life into me. And you were feeling them because of me. I couldn't understand, I know my appearance is a bit . . . startling." He said with a bitter sneer.

"Mm, startlingly handsome." I said softly and kissed his cheek.

He chuckled. "Only you could look past everything I've been, past everything I've done, and see something worthy."

"Ah, Jasper, don't say things like that. You're a catch and you know it." I assured him.

He moved suddenly, one moment he was leaning against me, the next he was knelt in front of me on one knee. I stared at him, wide eyed. If my heart wasn't already dead in my chest it would have stopped.

"Mary Alice Brandon," He began.

I shook my head. "Alice Brandon-Cullen." I corrected.

He sent me a rueful smile. "Alice Brandon-Cullen," He began again and fished a small, velvet box from his jacket pocket. "You have become the very center of my existence. And I pledge that I will do anything in my power to ensure your safety and happiness for as many years as we both may live. Will you do me the very huge honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me, Alice?"

I stared at him for a full second – two seconds – as I took in what he'd just said. Marry him? He scarcely needed to ask. He could have just slipped the ring onto my finger as we were sitting together. As _if_ he needed my confirmation. He must have known what I would say. He had to have. That couldn't be real doubt and uncertainty beginning to creep it's way onto his face.

"Of course!" I all but shouted in my excitement. "Of course, I will, Jasper! I love you. I love you so much. Yes. Yes. Yes!" I cried.

A smile slowly settled on his lips as he took my left hand and slid the ring onto my finger. The ring was perfect, of course. Who would have thought that Jasper would have been attuned to me enough to know what kind of jewelry I liked. It was a simple ring, it kind of reminded me of him, a simple, delicate golden band. But faceted in the center was a large, flashy, diamond – a little bit of pizazz to represent me.

As soon as the jewel was in place, I tackled him. He let me overpower him, wrapping his arms around me as he tumbled backwards. Laying on his chest, I kissed him square on the lips before laying my head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly while a huge, goofy smile spread across my lips.

"Mrs. Alice Whitlock." I said quietly, relishing the way it sounded. I couldn't help the giddiness that rose up in me.

A fierce, possessive smile spread across Jasper's mouth. "Yes. _My_ Mrs. Alice Whitlock. My beautiful, soon-to-be, wife."

If possible, my grin got wider. I was _his_. I liked the way it sounded. And I would be his for eternity, if we lasted that long, I thought happily. There could never be anyone for me but Jasper.

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A/N: And there it is, we've come to the end of my telling of Jasper and Alice's romance. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and let me know what you thought.

~Allora


	9. Author's Note

Author's Note:

For all of you who stuck this story on alert, thank you. I've just posted the first chapter to a companion piece to this story titled "With You, I Have Everything". It was a suggestion from Wicked Lovely Gypsy to write my rendition of Jasper and Alice's romance from Jasper's point of view this time that inspired this.

I hope you all will read it. I look forward to hearing from you.

~Allora


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